


That 'Hawk' Agent is Weird

by Damon_Ricky



Series: MGIT:  Hawk without the 'E' [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Humor, Braids, Chesthair, Egghead - Freeform, Humor, Inquisition Agents (Dragon Age), Isekai, Just incredibly Lucky, M/M, Modern Boy in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Guy in Thedas, Not a Seer, Not an Oracle, Nuggalopes, Reincarnation, Sidekicks, Spirit Guides, Though not as lucky as the Herald, Transmigration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23310301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damon_Ricky/pseuds/Damon_Ricky
Summary: Things are changing rapidly in the world of Thedas, and many people would ask: How did Ellendra and Mattrin get together? What do nuggalopes really eat? When did they know Corypheus was going to attack Haven? Why are people calling Solas 'EGGHEAD', And why is Cullen so damn good at chess?Hawk knows, and that's Hawk without the 'E' at the end.Basically, it's an MGIT carefully and quietly pulling the strings from the background. The only reason why he hasn't been caught 'yet' is because of Leliana's love for nugs.
Relationships: Male Trevelyan/Original Male Character(s)
Series: MGIT:  Hawk without the 'E' [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080404
Comments: 105
Kudos: 318





	1. Hawk Without the 'E'

Hawk Without the ‘E’

Ω

That one morning, a young frizzled hair recruit with a giant war nug brought a wagon full of elf root, iron, ream meat, ram leather, Ferelden locks, and wooden logs to Requisition Master, Ser Threnn.

The jaws of Threnn and her boys dropped two inches lower than normal could when they gawk.

“…What? Is it not enough?” Recruit _Hawk_ questioned. “ _Nuggy_ here worked all morning to pull this wagon!”

“I—No, this is _more_ than enough, actually,” Threnn finally found her voice as she examined the goods in the wagon. “Where did you even find all this?”

“Around.” Hawk answered as he stretched and yawn. “Can I drop off this wagon here for you guys to unload it while I take my Nugget back to his stall?”

With a reluctant okay, Hawk unhooked the straps of the wagon from his war nug and he led her out of Haven. Most of them moved out of their paths as they were afraid of the humongous Avvar war beast, but what they don’t know about Nugget is that she’s a lovable giant. Definitely not trained in the ways of war. She’s a harmless monster that just wants belly rubs and apples. Her favorite past time is to frolic in the open snowy field, playing with the herd of druffalo nearby.

As soon as he got her in his stall with lots of hay and whatever crops that the kitchen workers had gathered up for the war nug, Nugget happily munched it all, content with the food.

With that chore done, he went to the soldiers training in the camp nearby. He made sure to get suited up and reported to Lieutenant Rylen.

Rylen glanced up and gave him a hard look. “You know you’re three hours late?” He asked. “If I hadn’t seen you bring in that wagon of supplies, I would have had you flogged five times.”

Recruit Hawk blanched at that. “Flogged? Isn’t that extreme?”

“You could be easily labelled as a deserter, you know? If you’re not too careful,” Lt. Rylen explained to him. “And no, I wouldn’t really have you flogged. I’d probably just give you the punishment of digging up latrines for the next two weeks. Still, I’m surprised. How early did you have to get up?”

“Before the sunrise,” Recruit Hawk simply answered as he picked up the sword and shield. “Who’s my partner?”

“Me.”

Hawk whirled and glanced at him warily while Rylen rolled his eyes at his overreaction. “Oh, don’t be such a big baby. Besides, you hold your ground pretty well. Not compared to your first day here. Couldn’t even hold a shield properly.”

“Okay, okay, if you’re done _roasting_ , why don’t you show me, old man?” Hawk incited.

“You know I’m just five years older than you right?”

Hawk smirked. “Five years sound to be enough in getting those wrinkles on your ugly face—OOF!”

Recruit Hawk landed on his ass from the shield that bashed him. Rylen banged his blade on his fortified shield.

“Come on! _Talking is for losers_ , as you have said!” Rylen said. “Now, on your feet, Hawk!”

Hawk laid down there for a moment before getting up on his feet.

“I’m gonna feed you to my Nugget, Lieutenant!”

“Ohh, we all know your Nugget is too much of a wuss!” Rylen barked back, more fondly. Almost everyone in the army knows the huge war nug is more like a defenseless puppy.

This went on for an hour or so of sword-fighting, and Recruit Hawk had to give it to himself. He was improving greatly on his sword and shield techniques. He had always found it tricky to use the shield, but he realized, this fighting style, one is supposed to take on the damage, like a Spartan taking every beating but still ended up being the winner in the fight.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Rylen panted out and Hawk lowered his guard a bit. “You’re… you’re really getting good.”

“Thanks. You need to focus on your footwork though,” Hawk pointed out. “…Sir.”

Rylen glanced up to glare at him before shaking his head at this kid’s blatant disrespectful words, but then he straightened up when a runner came right for them.

He saluted. “Lieutenant. I have a message from Sister Nightingale. Recruit Hawk here has been requested into the war room.”

“…Like _now?_ ” Hawk asked, panting.

“I-I wouldn’t make them wait,” the messenger stammered, mostly at the recruit’s nonchalant response.

“Get your ass moving, Hawk!” Rylen ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Hawk saluted before he went to put away his equipment properly and followed the runner back to the Chantry.

Hawk walked through the huge doors of Haven, and he recalled coming here when the Conclave had just exploded. He came with his Nugget with a wagon of supplies to sell, but decided to just donate everything to help the ones in need. He even allocated and distributed it according to priorities: the wounded and the soldiers. He then passed off that responsibility to someone else as he went to go join Cullen and his men to fight off the demons that tormented the areas.

He was also there when the Herald fell out of the rift. He had expected Evelyn Trevelyan, the game’s canon character, but to his surprise, it was the male version: Maxwell Trevelyan—or some other name, probably not the default.

Anyway, the story progressed as it should, and the Herald of Andraste had stabilized the breach. Now the guy was probably in the Hinterlands, trying to gather influence.

On the way to the chantry, he was stopped.

“Hawk!”

People still whirled their heads whenever they heard that name. Yes. Hawk. Just like the name of the Champion of Kirkwall, which was Garett Hawke, but Recruit Hawk always made it clear to them that his last name had no ‘E’ on it, so not the same people.

Flissa walked right up. “Your _Spaghetti_ recipe has been a huge hit in the past few days. I was hoping if you had any more to share that your Grandma passed down to you?”

“I do, but later, I’m being called to the war room,” He said.

“Ohh, I hope it is nothing bad.” She said.

That made him stop in his tracks. “Why? Did something happen?” He asked nervously and he glanced at the messenger. “Hey, you! Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, I don’t really know. I was just sent to fetch you,” the runner said. “Honest.”

“Ohh, it’s probably nothing,” Flissa said, slapping his back. “You can give them to me later, then.”

Recruit Hawk hadn’t really thought about this being a call on for suspicious activity, but he hadn’t done anything that would arouse suspicions…right?

In any case, he couldn’t run. That would just make him a criminal and definitely be more susceptible to a flogging punishment.

They walked right in to the Chantry and Recruit Hawk glanced to his left.

“Hey Avexis.”

The tranquil gazed up blankly and responded, “Hello Hawk. In trouble?”

Hawk halted again. “No… but you’re the second person to say that. Why am I in trouble or gonna be in trouble?”

“…Perhaps both… Ha…” She said, her tone completely monotonous, which could creep a lot of people out.

Hawk found her more of an emotionless Eeyore. “Hmmm… Keep working on that laugh, Avexis. And am I really in trouble? Be serious.”

She hummed. “Hmm… Probably not.”

A sharp, irritated voice pierced through the lovely words of exchange, “Recruit Hawk! Were you out here this whole time?”

Recruit Hawk whipped his head forward to see Cullen poking out from the door.

“Commander!” He saluted. “I just arrived three seconds ago!”

Avexis, of course, had to interrupt. “It was ten, now counting to fifteen.”

Her response made Cullen gawk at her mostly in shock, but Hawk passed it off as being normal. Still, he gawked at her.

“Are you getting me into more trouble?”

“Now I can state my answer as _probably._ ”

“Recruit Hawk! Get in here!” Cullen’s sharp order cut through and Hawk hurried right over, giving Avexis a challenge glare, before walking right into the war room.

Thankfully, his exchange with Avexis made him less nervous now.

“Recruit Hawk! Reporting in. How can I be of service?” He announced himself to the other two patrons in the room: Sister Leliana and Ambassador Josie.

“Hawke? Are you related to the Champion?” Josephine inquired, her quill gesturing to him.

Hawk shook his head. “I get that question a lot, but no, ma’am, I’m a Hawk without the ‘E’ in the end.”

“Ahh, my apologies then,” she said as she scribbled on her note.

“Yes, to the Champion especially,” He clipped. “The Arishok could kick my ass.” 

That startled a short laugh from her. Cullen was shaking his head, but he was trying to hide his smile too.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Leliana cut in. “Commander Cullen here expressed your skills in the battle against the demons. Not only that, but we haven’t forgotten how you arrived here in Haven. You came with a large wagon of wares, planning to sell the supplies that we all desperately needed… and unlike Seggrit, you donated it all to our cause and even took up a blade to fight.”

Hawk waved his hand. “It was either me or Nugget, and between the two of us, Nugget can’t actually wield a sword, so I had to do the fighting.”

Another giggle escaped the Ambassador’s lips, and Hawk was sure the spymaster was even smiling—only just a bit though, but he knew she’d find him humorous.

“Where did you find her?” Leliana asked.

“Found her as a young calf, little tiny nuggalope, that was close to becoming food for the wolves. She was lucky I found her—or _I_ was lucky that I found her,” Hawk corrected himself. “…Is she a war nug? Ha! Maker, no. She knows only a few commands: sit, stay, and play dead. That’s about it.”

“I have to say it’s a waste not to teach her to charge,” Cullen pointed out. “We could train her.”

Hawk immediately shook his head. “Nooooo! Commander, we agreed that my Nugget will never join any battle. Otherwise, she can pull the wagon, sir.”

Cullen sighed. “She’s supposed to be a War Nug. With antlers like those, they could do a lot of damage to any enemy.”

“Uhh, do you take druffalos to war, sir?” Hawk sassed. “I don’t think so—! Well, then again… you could probably use druffalos for war, if you could train them. Their charging always causes people to run for their lives. I remembered when I was young, I was tipping druffalos over, and---”

Cullen could only roll his eyes at this despicable recruit that can’t seem to control his mouth. “Are you _sure_ you’re not related to Hawke?”

He shook his head. “My grandma’s an elf, so no. Anyway, as I’ve asked before, how can I be of service to you now, Commander? Sister? Ambassador?”

They all looked at each other and they seemed positive about something as they shared this silent communication that Hawk could only guess that they had plans for him, and that he was the right person to do the job. Now, he was getting worried.

Leliana then turned to him and said, “We’re sending you and _Nugget_ to the Hinterlands.”

…Eh?

Ω


	2. Hinterlands! Here We Go Again!

Hinterlands! Here We Go Again!

Ω

Recruit Hawk stocked up his wagon with the supply caches hidden around the area near the Winterwatch Tower. He glanced over to check one more time and sure enough, he didn’t see that other recruit yet that was going to have wine and cheese with a rebel mage.

Taking the long way down, he guided Nugget away from the area consistent of fighting and any nearby rifts where the demons had roamed. Hawk encountered a couple more skirmishes on the way, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

He did a lot of convincing to Commander Cullen that he was better suited travelling alone, especially when he was given a mission to assist the Crossroads in their recovery. The Commander relented, because Hawk did so well in getting Haven up and running so fast with all the supplies he gathered.

He made sure though to stop by at a close cliff where the Templar had committed suicide—NOPE!

Without even thinking, he ran right over and tackled the Templar holding a bundle of dangerous herbs—if consumed all can be deadly poison.

They tumbled to the ground and wrestled. Hawk wrapped an arm under the Templar’s jaw and then grabbing the arm, twisting it tightly to make him drop the bundle. The Templar snarled and thrashed underneath him, kicking and trying to throw his head back to knock the recruit off.

“Hey, hey! Calm down!!” Hawk called.

Meanwhile, Nugget was just munching on some grass.

Hawk pressed him down further and he started choking him. When he felt his strength weakened, he loosened his grip. “HEY! Easy! You know the Maker is quite judgy about suicide!”

The templar finally stopped fighting, but Hawk didn’t let him go as he waited for the knight to calm down completely. “…Ha… Then kill me.”

“No,” Hawk said. “I’d rather save you for later as my war nug’s feed—Kidding! Just kidding!”

The Templar had tried to thrash when he heard he was going to be nuggalope’s food, but after hearing that, he whipped his head, glaring at the man, wondering why would he even try to joke in this situation.

Hawk saw his look and he sighed, “Look, before you pop off, I got some things that I need to get done… want to join me?”

It didn’t take long for Recruit Hawk to convince him.

In the next couple of minutes, the Templar was now riding on the back of the wagon, sipping on Antivan sip-sip—really vintage and it didn’t turn to vinegar. He actually calmed down drinking that, and Hawk had to sigh silently, wondering what he was going to do with this Templar. Well, there wasn’t really much that he could do for him. For now, he marked off the hidden supply caches. There were two more north here on the way to that widow whose lover was murdered by rogue templars, and then there was one in the cave where the Astarium would be.

For now, he went to the one near the Astarium, where he managed to meet two rogue templars. The suicidal templar, Ser Mattrin, just ignored the attack, sitting in the wagon calmly, but watching Hawk. Then again, the guy was pretty hammered. He down the entire bottle of Antivan Sip-Sip. After Recruit Hawk recovered the Dalish Promise ring, he picked up the hidden cache in the cave, and then he backtracked to the west to get to the Widow’s house, picking up two more supply caches on the way. He even ended up returning the ring to the Widow.

“Ohh, thank you! It may not bring him back, but… this is all I have of him,” she said.

Hawk bowed his head. “Always glad to be of service, as I’ve said, the Inquisition is doing all they can to help the people here. Right now, I see you also have a rift here. I’ll let the Herald know, and he’ll come by soon enough.”

She nodded. “I understand. Again, thank you so much.”

“De da’rahn,” He spoke and she let out a gasp.

“You speak Elven?”

“Haha, very, _very_ little.”

By sun down, they reached the crossroads and Recruit Hawk reported first to Corporal Vale, unloading a lot of the supply caches he gathered.

“Wow, Commander Cullen did say to expect you late, but…” Corporal Vale trailed off as he looked at so much of the supplies. “I recall Recruit Whittle saying something about hidden supply caches, but it seemed you found so much of it! That’s one less thing for the Herald to worry about.”

“Right? He needs to focus on the rifts. Any way we could send him a letter sir? I’ve marked off here on this sketched map where the rifts are located southeast of here,” Hawk said, showing him the paper.

Corporal took it, impressed by it.

“Yes. Better get this to him. He’s currently far west of here to see the Horsemaster Dennet,” he said. “You should get some rest now, son.”

“Yes, sir.” Recruit Hawk agreed as he turned around.

“Wait!” Corporal Vale stopped him. “What will you do with this bloke?”

Hawk glanced over as the very-sad Templar was on the ground next to Nugget, who was resting. The red-head templar gazed up at them with this woozy look and answered:

“What you mean? Hiccup! I’m… this war nug’s _feed!_ Eat me, Nugsy!” He slap-pat the nuggalope who let out a coo as she turned her head to him and licked him across the face.

Hawk found it hilarious if not for the fact Corporal Vale had this horrified look on his face.

“No, no! He’s not! My Nuggalope only eats hay,” He quickly assured him, though actually, nugs are omnivores.

After assuring that the Templar wouldn’t do anything uncouth or suspicious, and even saying he was trying to take his own life, Hawk promised to look after him and Corporal Vale allowed it.

The next morning, Hawk was up and early and he forced the Templar, Ser Mattrin, to change into standard armor that didn’t scream TEMPLAR. Once they were both armed and ready, Hawk said farewell to Nugget as they went to the area to hunt some rams.

“You’re…good with that bow and arrow,” Mattrin stated after witnessing the recruit taking down a ram with one arrow.

“I’m a quarter Elven,” Hawk responded.

His brows raised. “…Huh. Not many people would admit that.”

“Why? I’m quite proud of it. What’s wrong with being a quarter elven?” He asked.

Mattrin paused a bit, before shaking his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Exactly!”

Thank goodness the templar has a good head on his shoulders.

They caught about three rams before making their way back to the town in the crossroads. There, they gave their kills to the hunter, who will be making a stew big enough for everyone. Hawk then asked if they had a mage in the area. The hunter asked why, and he explained that a mage could freeze the meat entirely so that it would still be okay to eat. With that sort of idea in their heads, they did say there was a mage in town.

“Mattrin!”

A woman came running down, and she leaped right into his arms, hugging him desperately. The templar stood there dumbfounded before he hugged her back.

“Ellendra!”

Surprise, surprise.

Hawk only smiled and he left the two alone. Suppose there were somethings that could be changed before tragedy would strike upon two lovebirds. He hoped everything else would go well for the Herald.

The next morning, both Ser Mattrin and Ellendra approached him as he was grooming Nugget.

“Can I help you both?” Hawk asked.

Ser Mattrin straightened up. “We’d like to join the Inquisition. I heard Knight Commander Cullen is the leader of the soldiers, is it so? Let us join.”

“Sure. You can wait for me, or you could go with a caravan that’s heading out tomorrow for Haven. Mother Giselle is going with them,” Hawk said, then he saw the unpleasant look on the mage’s face and he offered. “I’m sure Minerva could use more help on the research for creatures of phenomenal manifestation.”

Ellendra’s face perked up. “What?”

“Or you could help Adan. He’s our resident alchemist, and also our de facto healer. He’s always looking for help in the Healing department.”

Her brow raised. “I do not have to fight?”

“No. The Inquisition offers many different jobs, and I’m sure if you talk to the Ambassador, Lady Montilyet, you can find the job most suited for you,” he said. “Ser Mattrin can join the army, or stay as a guard, whichever Commander Cullen would want him at.”

The Circle Loyalist was feeling a lot better towards the aspect of joining the Inquisition. With that settled, they bid their goodbyes as they went to the caravan to announce that they’ll be accompanying them to Haven. More protection.

After Hawk was done with Nugget, he went to the Corporal and told him the situation. He was then asked to send a letter of report and so he did.

“Your writing is strange,” a scout spoke over his shoulder, commenting on his handwriting. “It looks oddly neat and…uniform?”

“Thank you…?” Hawk tilted his head. “And you might be?”

“Recruit Whittle, and you’re Hawk, right? The Corporal told me you found all those supply caches that the Apostates hid.”

“Ah, yeah, I did. On the way here, I was scouting the entire area, and I found them easily,” he admitted.

Whittle shook his head. “Easily? You must be good at finding things.”

“You could say that.”

They chatted a while longer and even got to talking over Nugget, his adorable little nuggalope. In fact, when he wouldn’t stop talking about her, eventually Whittle made up an excuse to leave urgently, and without another second, he hurried out of there.

Hawk watched him go and he smiled.

Take that, he thought. Nosy people.

By the next morning, Hawk hunted more rams and handed it to the Hunter easily. After that, he headed East, getting a bit worried why the Herald hadn’t returned yet. Perhaps today? He wondered if they had even gotten to the Mage Encampment in Witchwood or the Templar’s camp near the waterfalls. Hawk made sure to mark it on the copy of his map, drawing the symbols.

When Hawk got to Fort Connor, he had to maneuver around the area to keep his Nugget safe. He figured he should try his luck through Witchwood Forest, even though that’s where the encampment was nearby, and the rift in the woods. Don’t forget about the rift!

To his surprise the rift was gone. Good. He could proceed to the _Gully of the Burnt Men,_ where that Druffalo had roam. (Yes. Pun intended.)

Then, Hawk heard fighting in the distance. Quickly, he moved Nugget to a shaded area with the thick bushes.

“Shh. Stay,” He ordered Nugget as she let out a soft whimpering coo.

Hawk carefully maneuvered over the cliffside, getting to higher grounds to see the fight. He had an idea on who was fighting as his heart soared when he could hear the Seeker’s familiar grunts and roars among the battle noise. Once he was in position, he glanced down to see that the Herald and his inner circle were caught in between the skirmish of both templars versus mages. They were keeping close together similar to a diamond formation with both the Herald and Cassandra guarding and delivering powerhouse attacks. Meanwhile, Varric and Solas were quite the effective supporters as their distant attacks did a number on several enemies.

The recruit carefully surmised that, if this was still a game, Hawk would classify them as level twelve or thirteen players. They were already well-experienced, and it showed mostly in Cassandra’s skills. What was missing now was the coordination of a party working together. They’re doing splendidly well, but Hawk knew they could do better. Maybe if given more time…

Nope, never mind.

They had dispersed farther wide, breaking formation when a mage threw a ward equidistant from them. They had to step away before the magic-mine would blow. It didn’t help that the other enemy charged at the Herald and bashed him down with the shield.

The moment they broke formation, Hawk was already sliding off the cliff and running towards their direction. He took out his sledgehammer-maul and dashed right at the Herald.

‘Sorry, pal. You can’t kill him.’

In one fell swoop, he swung to the side of the enemy templar, surprising him as he knocked him down, probably breaking several ribs despite the armor he wore. The templar wrought out an agonizing cry, crumpling on the ground.

Hawk then reached his hand out to the Herald.

“Need a hand?”

In that moment when Hawk made eye contact with the Herald, time immediately slowed down for the recruit as those soft chestnut brown eyes held him in a stunning spell. Hawk had seen the Herald before. After all, he was the one that found him falling out of the rift, and he also helped in carrying him down the mountain. He saw his face, but he had never actually studied his handsome face properly. Shit.

He knew the Herald was handsome, but Maker-damned, why they make all the Inquisitors so fucking sexy? It’s like seeing a Nexus-mod character, only that his features were more natural.

The Herald reached out, grabbing his hand firmly, and Hawk was about to pull him up when the force of pulling was in reverse. The Herald suddenly dragged him down to the ground. At first, he was shocked, but he had heard a sharp blade cutting the air above his head as he was being pulled down.

When Hawk dropped to his knees, he swung his hammer backwards, delivering a nasty blow to the kneecap of the enemy behind him, who cried out and fell. The Herald got right up on his feet and, with his sword, he sunk the blade right through the templar’s neck. _Wasted_.

The Herald pulled out his blade and kicked the corpse down. This time, he reached his hand out to Hawk.

“Need a hand?” He repeated.

Hawk scoffed. “You can’t just steal my line.”

That made him smirk, but it went away quickly when more enemies arrived, annoyingly from both sides.

Hawk joined in the battle as they moved back to the group, getting into formation again. The recruit easily blended with their formation and he watched the team’s movements, being hyperaware of his environment. He remembered he was like this in video games. He was lucky to be gifted with excellent hand-eye coordination, and he was even more blessed, waking up to this world and in this body that was capable of following every command fluidly that his brain had conducted. It was like he only needed to think, and he would be moving in an instant.

At the nearing end of the battle, a daggers-wielding rogue slipped pass the Herald, but he was ready for it. He swung his shield backwards to get him off from his back, but missed because the rogue started dashing away from him, going straight to his intended, unsuspecting target.

Hawk’s eyes widened as that rogue was heading straight for Solas.

“ _Egghead!_ Move!”

Solas had just finished casting a freezing spell on an enemy. The frost and snow flurrying in the air when he heard—he would have assumed the foul name-calling was for him—as he turned around only to face the danger coming for him. He knew that he couldn’t dodge, and he didn’t have a spell ready yet to counter the incoming attack.

And as usual, Hawk didn’t have to think hard on this.

He was already there, shoving Solas to the side as he brought up his sledgehammer and blocked the attack.

Hawk then threw his head, butting the enemy to the nose, breaking it and causing the enemy to stagger back. Quickly, he swung his sledgehammer, slamming it right to the skull. A loud crack echoed from the impact and the guy dropped dead to the ground.

To ensure it wouldn’t become a walker, Hawk raised his hammer high and brought it right down. Like smashing a watermelon, gooey juices messily splattered on his legs and on the grass.

It was quiet for a moment as they relish the ending of this tiresome battle.

Recruit Hawk lowered his hammer as he walked over to Solas and held his hand out.

“Sorry about that. Had to,” Hawk said, excusing himself.

Thankfully, the apostate had accepted his apology and even took his offer as the recruit pulled him up to his feet.

“I’ll thank you then for the assistance,” Solas said with some dignity. “And the name is _Solas._ ”

“I’ll remember that,” Hawk promised, but at the same time, he was relieved. He’d have some difficulty explaining to them why he’d know Solas name if he hadn’t shouted out that popular nickname that fans use when they’re angry with him.

“And who are you?” The Herald finally addressed him, mostly curious.

“Apologies!” Hawk then saluted, introducing himself, “Recruit Hawk! And no, I’m not related to the Champion of Kirkwall. I’m a Hawk without the ‘E’ at the end. Under the Inquisition Council’s directive, I’ve been sent here to the crossroads to better the livelihoods of the locals and the refugees here in the area.”

Varric joined in, grinning with amusement. “That’s quite the introduction there, kid.”

Hawk smiled sheepishly. “Thanks! Been working on it for the last few days.”

“I remember you now. You were that merchant who donated all his goods to our cause and joined the fight the day after the explosion,” Cassandra recounted. “You are the one with the war nug. What was her name? Leliana wouldn’t stop talking about her.”

“Oh yes, _Nugget_ ,” he said fondly then he whistled a tune, knowing she’d come out of her hiding. “She’s nearby. We were out here, gathering more supplies, weapons, herbs—anything really. If we have any excess, I’ll be sure to deliver the rest… to Haven…”

He began to trail off on his words as he swayed, stunned with a dizzy spell. The Herald reached out, grabbing him in time.

“Whoa, easy, are you alright?” He asked, concern in his voice.

“I…think so…” Hawk mumbled, holding to his supporter’s arms firmly as the dizziness wasn’t going away.

“Aw shit, he was grazed.” Varric pointed out the problem and Hawk glanced down to his left arm, seeing the tear on his sleeve and the nasty gash that was now oozing purple puss.

“Ahh… That… explains…” His words trailed off as he lost all his strength.

“ _Hawk!_ ” Herald caught him and carefully lowered him down. Solas was then at his side and they talked in rapid, urgent tones, but Hawk wasn’t sure what words were exchanged as their voices blurred out to nonsense. All Hawk could hear was the slow, loud beating of his own heart.

Shit… Was he going to die again?

He didn’t get an answer as the world around him inevitably faded to black.

Ω


	3. The Sky is Green

The Sky is Green

Ω

Hawk woke that night with the urge to puke out any leftover contents from his wrenching stomach.

He sat right up from his cot, still dizzy, nauseas, and slightly panicked as he looked around for the wooden basin. Thankfully, there was one prepared for him. He immediately grabbed it and spewed out all the gunk that he didn’t remember eating. What did he eat this morning? Most of it was mucus, but still some of it was chunky.

After a few hurls, he sat back, gasping for air, he cringed at the sour taste as he placed the bucket aside. He was feeling a little better now.

The tent’s flap flipped open as the Egg—Solas walked right in.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“…Nauseas, but better…” Hawk managed to answer. “Where…? What happened—OHH! _Nugsy!_ Where’s my Nugget?!”

The recruit had tried to get up and attempted to bolt right out of the tent, fearing that maybe she was still hiding, but Solas stopped him and urged him to lie back down.

“You mustn’t get up so soon,” he said. “We’re camped next to Redcliffe farms, and your nuggalope is just fine. She’s still prancing around, over at the farmer’s druffalos.”

There was amusement in his tone at the end, and Hawk rolled his eyes at that. “Oh maker… I’m here sick with poison, and she’s off playing with druffalos.”

His lips stretched to an amused smile. “Evidently, she must have known that you’ll be fine.”

“Still, man, that _stings_ ,” Hawk slurred as he rested back down in the cot, not able to see the skeptic brow raised on the elf’s face.

Another visitor went through the flap.

“How is our Recruit?” The Herald asked.

“I believe he’ll be better by the morning,” Solas said.

Hawk glanced over and saw there was a lot of darker red stains on him than when they met earlier. “…Did you go somewhere?” He questioned then quickly added, “Uhh, _your worship?_ ”

The Herald’s face crossed between annoyance and amusement. “Malcolm. My name is Malcolm Trevelyan, and to answer your question, we followed the markings on your map.”

A drop of dread fell to the empty pit of the recruit’s stomach as he kept a straight face.

“My map?” He asked.

Malcolm then took out a folded map, and it surely was his map as the corner of it was chewed out by none other than his dear nuggalope. He remembered leaving it on the wagon seat, pinned by a large pebble. Shit. Should have hidden that.

The Herald opened it fully and moved closer to him.

He showed him. “Here and here. You’ve marked both the locations of the rebel mages and rogue templars.”

“I---Yes, I did,” Hawk answered in a calmly manner. “I had spotted the cave not too long ago and saw some mages heading in there. As for the Templar camp, I read a note that was carried by one of the templars a few days ago, and it said something about along the river to the west. I surmised they could be near the waterfall—out of sight.”

“Well, you were spot on,” Herald said. “Thank you for that. We cleared out both camps already.”

Hawk’s brows raised, surprised. “You did? Already? Shit, you guys are _badass_.”

Malcolm snorted at that claim. “I’m not sure about that…”

“Right… or maybe only the Seeker is badass.”

“On that we can agree,” Malcolm concluded, which made Hawk smile. So, the dude does have a sense of humor. Not too hardcore and not too flush-posh either. 

“We should let him rest a little longer if he is to come with us,” Solas pointed out.

Hawk then whipped his head at this. _Come with them?_

Malcolm saw his confusion and so he explained, “I’m guessing you were that same recruit that found the apostates’ hidden caches as well as the one that marked the rifts located southeast from here? You’re resourceful, and we’re hoping you could come with us.”

Hawk was not too keen with that idea. After all, he still had Nugget with him.

The Herald had sensed rejection coming as he seamlessly added, “It’s only for tomorrow. We need a bit of help tracking down some ravenous wolves, setup building spots for the watchtower, and after that, we can take you back to the crossroads, and my company and I will see to closing the rifts there.”

Shit. Refuse. Reject!

“Of course! As long as I’m not in your guys’ way, I’d love to come!” Hawk forced out his enthusiasm, and the Herald couldn’t help but smile both mischievously and victoriously, as if knowing.

_ Shit. _ _Damn it, Hawk!_

With that, they left him to rest and Hawk laid back down on his cot, thinking tomorrow was going to be a very, _very_ long day.

-

“So, _Junior_ , where are you from?” Varric questioned.

Currently, they were on their way around the area to set up the watchtower spots for Cullen’s soldiers to build upon. The Herald was carefully marking it on his map. As they were making their way to the last one, the dwarf decided to question the new teammate of the party.

“Ohh you know, _around_ ,” Hawk answered, deflecting. “And Junior? Why you calling me _Junior?_ ”

The dwarf grinned. “Well, believe it or not, kid, you actually remind me of Hawke, but I can’t call you that. It can get confusing to many people, so I’ll just call you Junior.”

“Well, I’m not a Junior. Why can’t that Champion be the junior?” Hawk complained.

Varric raised an amused brow. “Don’t think I wouldn’t know what you’re doing, Junior. _‘Around’_ doesn’t exactly specify from which nation you’re from.”

Shit! So close! Hawk thought glumly.

“Where _are_ you from?” Malcolm asked this time. “Your accent is similar of a Dwarf from Orzammar, but less… entitled.”

“Oh! That reminds me of a joke!” Hawk cut in. “Okay, there was a human, a dwarf, and an elf who stopped by at a lake to piss.”

“Maker,” Cassandra groaned in disgust.

Hawk readied himself for the joke and the plagiarism alert that Bioware would sue him for if they ever found out. “After, the human takes out some soap and begins washing his hands. "We humans have learned how to be clean and hygienic," he says to the others. The elf begins picking some leaves off the trees and wipes his hands with them. "We elves do as tradition has taught us and use what nature has provided." The dwarf, meanwhile, has pulled up his trousers and is already on his way down the trail. "And our ancestors," he calls back, "taught us dwarves not to _piss on our hands!_ ”

That did cause them to laugh, especially the Herald and the dwarf. Solas was smiling, amused by the joke. Even the seeker was amused despite that she’s pursing her lips. It was a good cultural, racial joke. Thank you, Zevran.

“That one definitely sounds like a dwarf from Orzammar,” Varric commented.

“Right? Oh, hey! Isn’t that a good spot to set up the Watchtower?” Hawk asked, pointing at the hillside where he was sure there would also be a shard there. He had wanted to ask if they found the fragments that the skull provided.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. When they had set up the spot for the watchtower, Malcolm found the shard and collected it. Hawk was surprised for it looked nothing like the one in the game. If anything, he had to compare it to a very small jewel shard, like Kagome finding a small tiny piece. However, it wasn’t glowing so how was he able to find it?

“What is that?” He asked curiously.

Malcolm turned to him and he held up the Shikon Jewel Shard. “There was a skull up near the waterfalls that, upon looking through the eyes of it, illuminated these shards from a distance. They’re quite difficult to find, though this is the third shard. We’re still missing the fourth one.”

“Did you mark it on the map?” Hawk asked.

Thankfully he did so he could find it himself and pretend that it was due to Malcolm that he knew where it was. The fourth spot wasn’t too far from them, or technically the spot where they had met yesterday. Upon searching, they found the fourth shard.

It took them a while to realize that Hawk never truly gave them a clear answer of his origins.

-

“Hawk! You were amazing! You saved the town in the Crossroads and now the King of Ferelden wants to meet you!” Josephine exclaimed as soon as the Recruit walked inside the chantry.

Hawk kept a straight face, smiling, “Oh really? I didn’t do much.”

At her outburst, faceless spectators gathered to witness this ostentatious event.

Commander Cullen and Leliana approached from behind Josephine, smiling proudly at him.

“Oh yes, you have! They’ve heard so much of your accomplishments!” Leliana uncharacteristically praised him. “Congratulations. You’ve garnered so much support and repertoire for the Inquisition.”

“Indeed. I cannot understand why we haven’t come to the obvious conclusion yet,” Cullen said. “We should make you our new Inquisitor.”

At that announcement, the spectators awed in amazement before making a round of applause.

“Really? That’s great…!” Hawk matched their enthusiasm, keeping his customer service smile. 

At this moment, he was trying to think of ways to reject them. It’s not like it’d be awesome to be Inquisitor, because it would be, but he wasn’t the type of person that could make the hard decisions and live with the consequences as Bull have stated once. Besides, there’s already someone else for that position.

The problem now is that how was he going to tell these _demons_ that their tricks won’t work on him?

Hawk realized he was dreaming the moment Josephine walked right up to him. The glowing eyes and green muck oozing out from her gave it away. The same was for Cullen and Leliana. Three demons working together to get him to eat a delicious, juicy, red apple.

Should he just play along this time?

They led him along and soon the scenery changed as they were standing on top of a familiar bridge. It overlooked a faceless audience with Cullen and Josephine among them. Hawk then found himself standing there, and to his left: Cassandra, Leliana, and Malcolm waited for him.

Malcolm with his eyes bright yellow was holding the dragon-hilted blade as he approached him. “Here. Take this blade and assume yourself as Inquisitor. Maybe even Herald of Andraste.”

“Nah, you can keep that title,” Hawk said as he took the blade. He then glanced at the faceless and he took a deep breath.

“…For my first directive as the Leader of the Inquisition, I decree that every Tuesday will be _Taco Tuesday!!_ ”

The applause was hesitant, but it came, cheering.

Hawk kept going. “Then Friday will be _‘no breeches’_ Friday!”

The roar of the applause was halved.

“And then Sunday will be Sabbath day! Always gotta give thanks to your Maker or Makers. You never know, they might just appreciate the gesture,” Hawk continued.

At this point, every single demon that were posing as the characters of DAI had this unimpressed looks on their faces. Slowly, their expression contorted to emotions that aligned with anger and annoyance.

“And don’t get me started on Mondays! On Monday, everyone should get to sleep in for two hours more! How’s that for tacos—WAH!?!”

Demonic Malcolm then latched on to his collar, pulling him close to his ugly wrinkly face and roared. “ ** _YOU DARE FOOL AROUND WITH ME, MORTAL!?_** ”

Hawk gawked. “Wha—You fooled around first! What comes around, goes around, _FOOL!_ ”

The demon hissed revealing itself to be Sloth as he tossed the recruit off the bridge. Hawk landed on his back and the illusion of the crowd dispersed like fog disappearing.

“Ugh… shit…” Odd how one can still feel pain in a dream.

Hawk slowly got up as the demonic Sloth, now revealing its true face, landed in front of him and towered over him in a menacing aura. The demon then grabbed him with its long, finger-claw and held him up by the collar of his armor.

“ ** _You will surrender yourself to me, mortal!_** ”

Hawk struggled, kicking his feet in midair. This was not good.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Did I forget Movie Wednesday? See, I always forget that! Don’t worry, it’s on my to-do list!” Hawk promised him bullshit.

The Sloth demon snarled even more angrily, and before Hawk could do anything, fire came out of nowhere, burning the beast. It screeched in agony, and it quickly slinked away like a snake abandoning its prey to save its own skin.

Hawk fell to the stone ground again. “Ugh… fuck me…”

“I think I will pass on that.”

He knew that Welsh-accent acting anywhere.

Hawk quickly rose up to a sitting position, blinking rapidly when he realized it was none other than the Dread Wolf standing there before him. Solas, in all his glorious-annoying-handsome-egghead self, stood there, waiting for him to get up and explain probably of what had occurred. Hawk vaguely wondered if the Dread Wolf had seen everything from the beginning, but he also didn’t want to give away any bones to him. He could just keep his mouth shut.

“Ha... you and me both,” Hawk agreed as he got back up to his feet.

“Do you usually converse with malicious spirits, Hawk?” Solas questioned, approaching him.

“Uhh, no. They just came and I was just messing with them,” Hawk said. “And of course, I would never say yes to anything they say.”

“Mm-hmm… You dream quite vividly, Hawk,” Solas began, getting straight to the point. “I wasn’t aware that you were a dreamer yourself… does that mean you are also a mage? I’m quite curious why I couldn’t sense the fade from you.”

“Uhh, because I’m not a mage,” Hawk stated. “I am… a _lucid_ dreamer.”

Solas sauntered over to him with a skeptic brow raised. “ _Lucid dreamer?_ Explain.”

“Well… There’s not much to explain, but I’m not a mage. I can be quite aware if I’m dreaming. Quite like a dreamer, or a _somniari_ , but without the magic, because, you know, I’m not a mage. And sometimes, I just enter the fade reluctantly, even though I’m not a mage, just so you know!”

The old elf stood there and stared at him, unimpressed.

Hawk stared back. “…Did I mention that I _wasn’t_ a mage?”

“Yes. Yes, you’ve mentioned that,” Solas replied dryly and compliantly. “If you cannot do magic, then how is it possible that you’re here dreaming in the fade?”

Hawk thought long and hard over this. He had pictured this many, many times, and had thought up every single lie in order to combat the Dread wolf’s interrogative questions, and today was that day. Unfortunately, there were so many lies he made up, and plenty of other possible, unpredictable consequences that came with every fabricated fib. Like for example, being an oracle, and he _so_ didn’t want to be an oracle. No oracle meant not being responsible for Haven when it burns, right?

Uh-oh. Egghead was still waiting.

“Practice,” Hawk stammered out the idiotic lie.

Solas gave him an incredulous look. “… _Practice?_ ”

“Don’t you know? Of course, you don’t! Comes to you naturally, doesn’t it?”

The glaring egghead eyed at him longer and let out a long skeptic hum, letting the recruit know that he didn’t believe his lie. Instead, he prowled about the area, glancing around at their surroundings. Then slowly he stopped. Hawk watched him carefully as his expression slowly started to shift towards bewildered awe.

“How do you know this place?” Solas asked, almost breathless.

Hawk blankly blinked. “What? Sky---EEEEYYE is always green here!” He quickly caught himself. “The sky’s always green here!! Hahaha!”

He scratched his head, grinning sheepishly at the egghead, whose eyes now widened as big as plates when Hawk nearly said the word that he shouldn’t know until later, because—fuck, that would ruin the climatic reveal, right?

“A-And I don’t know this place!” Hawk stumbled. “Demons brought me here, you know! You should ask them! Ohhhh! _EEHHYY_ , look at the time! Do you see this time??” He held up the invisible watch on his wrist. “Yeah, sorry, I gots to go now, okay? But you take care, egghead! Buh-bye!”

Hawk cursed himself turning around and then running away from his problems.

-

Recruit Hawk woke up very early that morning before even the sunrise and snuck out of camp. He decided to go and collect the rest of the shards around the Redcliffe Farmlands. It also meant giving him some space away from Solas. He also made sure to gather what he could around the area, like the hidden package, letter from Bergrit for those masterwork claws, and lastly the love letter. He also gathered as many blood lotuses, elfroot, and embrium as he could.

Honestly, there was so much loot. If only, he didn’t have a stamina bar, he could keep going like this, but he figured it was time to head back.

When he returned, they were all awake, and that meant no time for Solas to speak to him privately.

He avoided eye contact from the Egghead at all times as he approached the Inquisitor—HERALD.

“Your Worship!” He saluted, and just grinned when Malcolm threw him a look, but Hawk had to say it. There were others in the camp area.

“What have you been up to all morning, Junior?” Varric asked. “What’s in the bag?”

“Loot! Lots of it!” Hawk said as he set down the sack. “I’ve always thought that Loot just meant ‘lot’ but plural-wise.”

Malcolm smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t believe that’s grammatically correct.”

“Ayyee, I do you, you do me—No! I do I, and you do you! ‘Cause that’s what I meant! So totally what I meant! First means nada, okay?” Hawk stammered, and cursed himself when his millennial-frantic accent shone through.

However, Malcolm only gave him a crooked smile. “Are you sure?” He asked.

Flustered and beet-red, Hawk thrust his hand into the sack and took out some important stuff. “Here! You might want to look into this, and this, and this, and this…!”

He mostly dumped everything that was essential, letting the Herald and the others sift through it. They all looked at him with varying looks of surprise, impressed, and skepticism.

“ _You_ gathered all this?” Cassandra questioned. “Even the shards?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Creepy skull, by the way,” Hawk said. “It has a faint marking on its forehead that resembled the Chantry’s sunburst.”

Their heads whipped immediately to him when he gave them that hint. He only stared back at them grimly. Slowly, their faces shifted to horror and Hawk walked away from them. It wasn’t necessary to talk about it, but only to mull over the fact and realization of the tranquils’ demise.

He went over to Nugget and got her prepared for the trip back to the Crossroads. He needed to see what else he had to do, in order to get commerce flowing. There was still that dragon and its nest, and then those mercenaries in the south that are disguising as bandits to hide the lyrium smuggling.

“Herald!” Hawk saluted. “I’ll be off. Next time, I’ll take your invitation, sir!”

Malcolm walked over to him and nodded. “You better, Recruit.”

“Good luck at Val Royeaux, sir,” Hawk said and he gave him a smile. The Herald smiled back. Despite the somber mood in change, the farewell lightened the heavy hearts a bit.

With that, Hawk left with the giant nuggalope that he called nugget.

As he was gaining distance, and far from ever hearing their voices, Solas raised a rather concerning and curious question.

He called, “Herald?”

“Solas?”

“Did you ever mention about your trip to Recruit Hawk?” Solas wondered.

Malcolm stopped. No… no he hadn’t.

Ω


	4. I Am Not Afraid of You

I Am Not Afraid of You

Ω

The rough knuckled fist struck him across the face. Hawk was only lucky to grit his teeth tight enough so not to lose it, but damn, did it hurt.

“ _Motherfucker…_ ” He cursed under his breath before he glared right up at the leader of the Hessarian Blades.

“ _Hey!_ I dare you to try that again!” Mattrin snapped, glowering at the guy.

The Hessarian leader turned to the former Templar and he kicked him down. He then moved to stand over him and stomped down on his neck. He squeezed down further, choking the bound knight.

“Stop!!” Hawk cried as he moved but the other Hessarian Blades pulled him back.

“If you want me to stop,” The Blade Leader began. “Why don’t you tell me where you hid the stash, then?”

Hawke grimaced and wondered how the hell did he let this happen?

After his work on the crossroads, he returned to Haven with whatever loot remained and donated the items according to the departments that needed it: apothecary and the smithy. Not even twenty-four hours later that he was assigned to another mission, this time by Leliana, who told him to go scout the Storm Coast area. He almost said no, but of course, he doesn’t often say no, and the Spymaster noticed his reluctance.

He remembered the conversation.

“You seem reluctant taking this mission,” Leliana pointed out. One could never be too careful with this woman. Yes, or no, she’ll find a way to make any person, even a little girl, seem suspicious.

“Well… I know bandits live there. The Blades of Hessarians?” He told her, because he knew she can tell if he’s lying. “I know they’re not bandits, but they sure are operating like one. Plenty of travelling peddlers were terrorized by them when they take that route.”

He wasn’t lying about that part even if he knew no other peddler telling that story. The news seemed to surprise Leliana a bit as she looked on thoughtfully.

“I will let Harding know,” she said. “Regardless, I still need you and Nugget to go. Other than scavenging, I need you to see what sort of intel you can gather. Plus, I’ve heard that they’ve seen the same skulls that the Herald and his team discovered in the Hinterlands. The Herald had mentioned you found and collected most of it in the shortest time possible.”

Hawk grinned nervously, crossing his arms. “Haha… I am good at finding things. Alright, Sister. I’ll be taking Nugget, but she stays in camp with them… I don’t want the Hessarians taking her.”

“Cullen’s right… we need to train her to charge.”

Hawk argued back. “No charging for my Nugsy! …Ma’am!” He quickly added the last part for respect.

So here he was, with Mattrin as his company. They had arrived at the storm coast, dropped Nugget off at the Holding camp, and not even three hours later, He and Mattrin were ambushed by Hessarian blades.

When they woke inside the cabin, Hawk realized that they had replaced the fates of the two Inquisition scouts that would die just for the Herald to come by and find out about the Mercy’s Crest.

Shit. Just his luck. He was on Death’s doorstep again.

Before they would be killed, Hawk had slipped that they were here to pick up lyrium crates. The word lyrium enticed the Leader, and he realized this guy must have been a former Templar, and is now an addict. Is that why he resorted to banditry? Stolen goods would be converted to coin, and that coin can be used to exchange for lyrium with some shady sister from a Chantry.

So, here they were. The Hessarian leader beating them into an inch of their lives to get information about the lyrium. Mattrin perfectly played along despite that he was suffering along with him, but hey, they were still alive.

It was now the third night, and Blade Leader was losing his patience, ready to kill Mattrin.

“WAIT!” Hawk intervened. “Wait! Look…I’ll tell you, just….”

The Blade Leader removed his foot, then he marched over to Hawk and grabbed him by the collar. “Oh?”

“…The long river… when you reach the end, there is a cave there,” Hawk answered, remembering the map of the Storm Coast.

A Blade member spoke, “There are demons there.”

“Why do you think I brought a Templar?” Hawk fired back, trying so hard to stick to his story.

The Leader gave him a long hard look before throwing the recruit down. “You’re coming with me tomorrow morning… if you lie, I’m killing you, and then I’m killing your friend here.”

His nose flared before he turned around, marching out of the room. The rest of the blades followed him out, leaving the two alone in darkness after they blew out the candles.

Mattrin panted turning his head to Hawk. “What…? Was there really a lyrium shipment?” He asked whispering harshly. “How do you know there’s a river—?”

“Shhhhh…!” Hawk hushed him quickly when the door knob rattled.

Another Blade walked in and Hawk raised a brow. This was one was different as he approached them. He faced Hawk directly.

“…What are you doing?” He asked. “…You’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“…So are you…” Hawk said. “When the Inquisition comes, they will wipe you all out because of your leader’s stupid tendencies to stroke his ego.”

A small pity smirk stretched on the Blade’s lips. “It’s not our place to disagree… We have orders. We are merely just the sword, not the hand that wields it.”

Knew it. Already his words reminded him of the letter that was left behind on two dead Inquisition soldiers—which happened in the quest for ‘Cleaning House’. Hawk blessed himself lucky to remember this mess, and now he was praying for him and Mattrin to make it out. After all, he didn’t save Mattrin just for him to die again in the line of duty.

“Then… Go check my bag. There’s something there that will help you,” Hawk said.

Mattrin eyed at him, raising a brow. “What are you doing now?”

Hawk ignored him. “Just do it, and I’ll explain everything.”

The Blade sneered at him before getting up, “This better not be a trick.”

“Just take it out,” Hawk insisted.

The young blade rolled his eyes at him as he moved towards their stolen loot and he searched through their bags. They had searched it many times, but then Hawk told him to look for an inner pocket, a slit underneath. There was definitely a hidden pocket when he reached in, he touched an amulet of sort. When he took it out, his eyes widened at the sight of the necklace…

“The Mercy’s crest…” He turned slowly, shock at Hawk. “You…”

“Hurry, and hand it to Mattrin here,” Hawk said. “Mattrin, when the Herald comes, make sure you give it to him, alright?”

Mattrin frowned. “What makes you so sure he’ll come?”

“Well, you better pray, because then we’ll both be dead by the end of tomorrow,” Hawk told him. It would be the end of the road for them, and it was only just the beginning of the game. He didn’t remember once dying in the game unless falling off of high places counted.

Still, he had to ensure they’ll make it tomorrow…right?

\--

Hawk’s eyes flew open as he found himself on a beach, and it looked a lot like Santa Monica. Empty and deserted like it was the time of the pandemic. He remembered how crazy the people were in this awful event.

“Where are we?” The Welsh-accented elf asked in wonder. “Those buildings… I’ve never seen buildings so straight and tall…”

Thank god!

For once, Hawk was glad to see Solas in his dreams as he rushed right over to him.

“Solas! I am in deep shit of trouble!” He told him.

The egghead was taken back by the sudden news and he straightened up, treating this manner seriously. “How do you mean? Where are you?”

“Storm coast. I’m guessing you being here in my dreams mean that you guys are nearby? Off to see the Chargers’ audition?”

“How did you—”

“I was sent here first with Mattrin to scout the area to find loot, and now we’re being held captives by the Blades of Hessarian!” Hawk said in a panic. “And then I lied to the Leader of the Blades, saying that I was sent here to pick up lyrium for the templars at Haven, and he believed it! So now I’m taking the Jackass to the long river, farther south of the coast, passed the wreckage of sea-boats, and dwarven cave lair! It’s a really long river where snouffleurs graze about! Did you get all that? Here.”

He moved away from the elf, heading towards the shoreline where the waters ebb and flow from the sand. He took a long moment to focus and envision as how he saw it in the game. Before he knew it, the whole world changed reflecting back the area of which the long river ran to the Storm Coast.

“Here! Follow the river to the east and it will take you toa cave where there’s a rift!”

“A moment,” Solas cut in. “Are you planning to take them there, even knowing the danger the rift will bring?”

Hawk shrugged. “I’m hoping to use it as my escape plan.”

His brows then narrowed, raising his suspicions more. “So… you are absolutely sure there’s a rift there.”

The recruit paused, now realizing the shit he dug up.

“…I am _hoping_ there’s a rift there,” he said, amending. “There’s a difference!”

“That’s not what you said,” the elf quipped.

“Please, Solas, I don’t want to die again,” Hawk said and then cursed himself inwardly for letting another ‘issue’ slipped past him. The Egghead was now glaring at him, rather than being sympathetic. Nevertheless, he continued to plea, “Look. You’ll find Mattrin south to where you’ll meet the Chargers, on top of a hill. Just follow the path, and going up to a place where rocks would fall—just don’t be too loud, bad idea. There are two cabins on top of the hill, overlooking the shore, and the one to the left, Mattrin should be in there. _Alive_. He’ll also have the Mercy’s Crest, which he needs to give to the Herald and challenge the Leader of the Hessarian Blades!”

Solas shook his head. “And why would he need to do that?”

Hawk sighed in frustration. “To avoid needless deaths? Look, these blades, they’re basically that! Blades! Swords! The one who wields them is the Leader, and he’s the guy that I’m going to be taking down the long river, in hopes that I’ll find a way to escape before he kills me! And like I said, I don’t really want to _die._ ”

The Dread wolf for once was looking sympathetic to his situation. “I will inform the Herald when I wake after this, but how will I explain to him that you told me you’re in danger?”

“Well, tell him you came to my dream,” Hawk said, raising a brow.

“Actually, _you_ pulled me in to _your_ dream,” Solas corrected him.

His eyes widened. “…What? No, I didn’t!”

“Yes. You did,” Solas emphasized, and Hawk paled a bit, realizing he was telling the truth. Thankfully, the elf saved him. “However, we will discuss this at a later date. I will inform the Herald of your dire situation.”

Hawk was relieved at that. “Yes! Pick up Bull, quickly, and find me please!”

“Just try and stay alive, for your sake,” Solas said.

\--

All at once, it was morning and the door swung open harshly, waking them both. The ex-templar stomped right in and grabbed Hawk, pulling him up.

“Time to show us where the shipment is, scout, and if you’re lying, then you already know the consequences,” He said placing the tip of the blade near his throat before he suddenly threw him ahead. “Walk!”

Hawk glanced back once to see the templar’s worried face and threw a smile at him before heading out.

Through the rest of the day, he led them south to where the long river would be, starting at the mouth of which leads to the sea of the Storm Coast, then he peddled to the east. All the while, they stayed from behind with a couple of arrows pointed his back if he dared to run.

It was at this moment that Hawk was praying for a bear to come. Usually, he would never want to mess with the bears of Ferelden, but that would give him a slight chance to escape this predicament.

Soon, the cave was in view, and no bear came to rescue him.

His only hope now was the Herald.

“Why are you slowing down? Hurry it up!” The Bastard shouted as he shoved Hawk forward. With the slippery rocks, he easily slid and landed on the small stream, getting a small cut to his face from the sharp pebbles.

A moment after, he was roughly pulled up again and he glared back at him.

“What’s with that face? Hmm?”

“You know, you’re not going to get away with this,” Hawk told him. “The Herald will be coming to lop your head off.”

The Bastard laughed aloud. “Are you lovers or something? Either way, he’d be too late. You’ll be dead before he gets to you, now move!”

Hawk staggered a moment and he realized the leader was just going to kill them anyway as soon as he would get the lyrium shipment. This bastard was the lowest of low and wouldn’t even keep his word. During this journey, he had noticed there were three more that supported the leader, while the other two were reluctant dragged into this. They were following orders despite morals. Sheesh, this cult needs some reshaping over leadership, like the choice of impeachment.

They made it to the dark, damp cave and the giant spiders were expected. Unfortunately, the guys here cut them down like they were nothing. No doubt that, because they live in this area for most of their lives, fighting giant spiders was just an everyday chore.

“So? Where’s the lyrium?” The leader questioned with a sharp tone.

“Hold on. It was around here,” Hawk said.

Shit. Was there no rift at all?

“I knew it! You’ve been lying this entire time!” He said as he marched right over, grabbing the scout and thrusting him against the stone wall.

Hawk’s hit the wall with the back of his head, causing him to get dizzy as the ex-templar started choking the life out of him. With his hands still bound behind his back, He could only try to kick him off.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly here!” He said, snarling in pleasure. “And then I’ll go right back and kill off that other resigned templar, who abandoned his vows.”

“You’re no better—A—aH!” Hawk tried to manage out an insult, then he heard a crackle in the distance.

“S-sir!!” A couple of the Blades called to him, and Hawk, with his vision getting blurry, saw they started pointing to the far end of the cave where a green light was glowing. “SIR!”

“What?!” The bastard snarled, turning his head over and when he saw where they were pointing at, he looked to that direction. His eyes widened.

Did the rift just appear now?

Hawk glanced down and saw a green ripple below the Douchebag’s feet, and he couldn’t help but grin. Claws reached right out of it, causing his goons to yell their warnings, but it was too late. The _terror_ demon lunged right out, separating the two and sending them flying to their backs. Hawk hit the ground first as the fear demon rose, screeching, causing shockwaves and making everyone stagger back. To them, it was the most horrifying thing with all its beady multiple eyes on its face and its mouth in long oval jaw that inhumanely went passed the sternum of its chest. Its two sets of arching antlers made it seem like a creature of immense power.

Then, it set its demonic eyes on Hawk, taking slow steps towards him and raising its claw.

Hawk kicked the ground to move away from it, but it closed the distance on him faster. He, then stared straight up at the demon, taking a deep breath, and wore a brave face.

“I am not afraid of you,” He told it, and he stared hard at it.

The demon with its raised claw slowly halted, tilting its head as all its black eyes stared straight back at him. After a few moments, it began to turn at the cultists, directing its fury on them. It let out a long screeching roar before frighteningly leaping right at them, bringing a claw down. One bandit cultist was sliced in three when it attacked him. Horror plastered on their faces before one of them started screaming in _terror_.

It then clawed at the screaming cultist, lopping her head off immediately and ceasing the noise.

Hawk quickly got up to his feet when wraiths and shades joined to assist the Terror demon, and without another glance, he hurried out of there, running as best as he could with his hands still bound.

He didn’t look back as he heard the screams from behind. He focused on staying alive, not wanting to feel that again—the drowning in his lungs and the shadows taking him. He kept glancing back as if assuring himself that he wasn’t being chased.

Though he should have paid attention to where he was going as he collided right into an obstacle.

The collision caused them both to tumble and land in the shallow river.

“Awwwhh fuck…” Hawk cursed.

“Ugh… _Hawk?_ ” His obstacle groaned out.

The recruit quickly turned his head to the right and saw that it was the Herald that he just ran over. Oh shit.

“…Hi, Malcolm…sir,” He added the formality.

“ _Hawk!!_ ” He heard Mattrin calling him. “Hold on!”

Mattrin then went from behind him and cut the binds. Hawk let out a sigh of relief as he stretched his arms. Malcolm had already gotten up on his feet and he held his hand out to Hawk.

“Need a hand?” He asked, smirking a bit. “Good to see you managed to escape.”

“Right?” The recruit said as he grasped his hand, allowing him to help him up.

Solas then joined them, saying, “It is good you stayed alive.”

Behind him were three other companions: Bull, Sera, and Cassandra, surprisingly a couple of the chargers as Hawk recognized Krem and Dalish, and then the rest were the Blades that probably wanted a different leader.

“You’re going to have to explain some things, but right now, where is the leader of the Hessarian Blades?” Malcolm asked.

“Down the river,” Hawk pointed. “Inside the cave. A rift had just opened.”

The recruit dared not glance at Solas’ way as he could feel the ancient elven burning holes with that scrutinizing gaze.

Still, Solas would speak to him, “A rift had opened? You’re quite lucky to escape from your captor.” 

“Oh Maker, yes! It was like trying to escape from an abusive, lyrium-thirsty husband,” Hawk squawked, and that caused Bull, Sera, and the chargers to guffaw and laugh over his inappropriate, unsuspecting joke.

Malcolm gave him side-eyed glance, shaking his head, but he was smiling. Hawk noticed he looked kind of sexy with that dripping wet look.

“ _YOU!!_ ”

At that snarl, Malcolm moved forward with his blade drawn. So did Mattrin, Solas, and the rest of the companions. Unexpectedly, Bull had roughly pulled Hawk to the back between Krem and Dalish. Hawk decided that he should take a step back, because, honestly, that was a horrifying angry face that the bastard was wearing.

Disheveled and slightly bleeding, the barbaric leader stood over the small hill with the other two remaining goons, one each at his side. He looked pass them when he saw his own Blades there next to their enemy.

“What do you think you’re doing!? _Attack!!_ ” He ordered.

The rebelling Blade stepped forward. “We cannot! The Herald of Andraste is wearing the Mercy’s Crest!”

Hawk didn’t get a good look of him wearing it…mostly because he was too busy admiring the Herald’s pretty handsome face.

The Leader looked even more livid if that was possible and he glared right back at them, like some cornered beast.

“Need help with that, Boss?” Bull asked, tightening the grip on his greatsword.

“No. He’s mine,” was Malcolm’s response as he waltzed right over to the leader.

The two goons aimed their arrows at him, but before they could do anything, fire blasted the guy at the left and an arrow pierced through the guy’s throat at the right. Hawk glanced to see Solas and Sera, mostly out of surprised as the two were like water and oil, and yet, they were in sync in that moment.

Malcolm didn’t stop as he continued walking towards the Bastard.

“W-wait!” He protested. “Y-you think this is a fair, righteous match?! I have battled demons and escaped, and you would disregard a wounded opponent—?!”

“ _Be silent!_ ” Cassandra’s sharp bark was the equivalent of the ruthless ‘shut the fuck up’, which proved to be extremely effective.

Malcolm was probably smirking, “How hypocritical of you… you were probably a demon yourself when you attacked and raided many innocent peddlers on the roads. Did you give them a fair and righteous battle?”

The bastard’s face contorted more to rage with a hint of horror mixed in. Hawk knew that the guy probably realized he was screwed. With how Malcolm was waltzing up to him, it was like the Grim reaper coming for him. In a last attempt to escape, the bastard lunged forward first to attack, raising his axe. Malcolm easily deflected it with his shield, letting it slide across as he strode forward and thrust his blade upward. The sharp sword went right through the bastard’s throat like butter, and blood sprayed out. Hawk noted that his prediction came true.

Malcolm pulled his blade right out to an angle, lopping the head off. The head and body fell unto the river, blood seeping and mixing with the waters.

It was over.

\--

The Herald ventured forward to the cave where the rift is with his party as the Blades of Hessarians gathered the dead to burn the corpses. Meanwhile, Krem and Dalish trekked back to the first holding camp, with Hawk and Mattrin. A few of the blades went with them, offering protection. Mattrin complained, but Hawk stopped him, shaking his head not to argue, and accepted the offer. Hawk was ready to drop, so he wasn’t really sure if he could fight any enemies on the way back. Thankfully, his decision was smart, especially when darkspawn creatures came out of nowhere. Krem, Dalish, and the blades cleared them out easily. 

While they fought, Hawk took that moment to pass out.

The next time he woke up, he was in a cot without his leather armor. Slowly, he sat up as he could smell the food in the air. He knew this smell anywhere as he recalled stashing it away for the journey and then eventually cooking it into a stew.

With his bones creaking and aching, he got up and went through the flap of the tent.

It was already nighttime. The herald, his companions, the chargers, and even the Inquisition soldiers and scouts have gathered around the campfire, enjoying a bowl of stew.

Eyes turned when they saw Hawk coming out.

“Hey! Look who’s awake! Come join us, there’s more for seconds!” Krem called, gesturing him to sit on the open spot that they were probably saving for him.

Hawk still looked confused, but he obeyed and went to take a seat. “Is that… Is this _my_ recipe?”

Mattrin swallowed the food in his mouth and waved at his friend. “Yes. I took the fermented meat pot from the carriage. You did say that you would cook it for us on the last day, and that it just needed hot water and to stew for a couple of hours. I thought today would be best.”

“I’ve never heard of this method of fermenting food,” Solas pointed out. “It brings out a savory, sweet and sour taste.”

Cassandra nodded. “I agree. It is plenty better than Ferelden stew.”

“It’s also spicy,” Bull said. “I like spicy!”

“That’s great, let me have a bowl already!” Hawk protested and they all laughed.

Malcolm had grabbed an empty bowl and a spoon and poured a couple of ladles himself. Then, he passed it over to Hawk, holding it out for him.

“Here.”

Hawk tried not to blush as he took the bowl. “Thanks…. And thank you to everyone here that came to get us… Really thanks.” He said, ducking his head bashfully.

Each and every one was grinning widely, and Sera exclaimed, “Euh! Don’t get mushy around here, I’m trying to eat!”

“Sera!” Malcolm scolded. “It’s not _that_ mushy.”

“It’s fine! I’m only saying it once!” Hawk quipped back before shoveling food into his mouth.

The savory taste of the beef with the ginger, and garlic paired well with the baby cabbage and spinach. It was also sweet with the carrots, onions, potatoes, and turnips that he placed. As well as the spicy peppers in the stew. Mattrin did well to remember the instructions of preparing this recipe.

All he could think was: it was good to be alive…

Though Hawk wondered if his days were numbered now, especially with the Dread Wolf nipping at his heels.

Ω


	5. Fa?  No! PHO~

Ω

“Do you usually wake up so early?”

Hawk glanced up to meet the Iron Bull himself. The sky was brightening up even through the thick gray clouds covering up the dawn. Hawk would call this time about seven o’clock. Still too early for the whole camp to wake, only a couple had woken up.

“It’s not that early,” Hawk argued as he continued mixing the fresh batch of warm rice with vinegar, sugar, salt, and spice.

Bull then said, “You woke up two hours ago, prepared this rice, and then you ventured off alone by yourself only to come back with a big sack of loot, which somehow you were able to carry.”

“Yeah, I went to search for the shards and came by with more stuff,” He said. “You can ask the Herald more about the shards though. I just collect them for the Inquisition.”

“The Herald? Didn’t you call him by his first name?” Bull teased, but Hawk was not biting it. He knew this Ben-Hassrath, and he should never trust him. Whatever question the qunari would give to him was just a ploy or a puzzle piece for him. Hawk shouldn’t be casually conversing with him either, even though he liked the guy.

Hawke picked up a bit of the meat that he had fried and wrapped it with the sushi rice. Bull watched him quietly, mostly curious by this cooking method as he shaped into a small ball. Bite-sized.

Then he passed it to Bull.

“Here. Tell me how it tastes.”

Bull looked at it, as if deciding whether its poison. Either way, it would be counterintuitive if he were to poison him now. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing before his eyes grow wide like saucers.

“ _MMmmm_! This is good!” He yelled, nearly waking up the camp. “Hey! Have you ever thought about joining the Chargers?”

Hawk laughed. “Just to be your cook? No. Now go away and let me finish.”

“You seem like you really don’t want to talk to me,” Bull pointed out, not leaving his spot at all. In fact, he leaned in closer. “Is there a reason for that, Hawk without the ‘e’?”

Hawk gave him a look, and he figured Varric had been calling him that or something. Oh wait, Varric’s not here. Maybe Mattrin? Also, either Malcolm, Cassandra, or Solas would have called him that, because those were the only three of which the recruit introduced himself as Hawk without an ‘e’.

Hawk shook his head. “It’s nothing personal, but I don’t like speaking to any _Hissrad_.”

Bull was taken by surprise before a glaze of suspicions pooled in his eyes. “Ohh? How do you know the term _Hissrad?_ ”

“Uhh, I think someone mentioned you were a spy?” Hawk said, raising a brow. He knew some time last night Malcolm mentioned it. “You’re Ben-Hassrath, right?”

“Right, but you seem to know more than you let on, kid,” He began to say. “I don’t think I told the Boss what my occupation really is, _specifically_.”

In that moment, Hawk knew he fucked up.

Before he could say anything, he saw Cassandra, already in her armor, leaving her tent. The anxious recruit quickly called for her.

“ _Big sis Cassandra!_ Bull is harassing me!!”

In an instant, her eyes zeroed in on Bull.

Yep. Hawk tattled on the big bad qunari.

Hawk glanced right at Bull’s shocked face before the recruit threw a smug grin at the Qunari as the Seeker, true to her name, sought him right away.

Hawk picked up the bin and moved farther away from them as he continued making food. The Seeker attacked the qunari with several warnings, and even threw an overbearing lecture. Bull tried to defend himself by throwing caution in the wind in trusting the recruit, but it backfired as she deflected that and scold him more about treating allies. And of course, it did! In the Seeker’s eyes, Hawk has already earned her approval, especially with Leliana’s recommendation. At least, Hawk hoped that they do trust him and were not planning to stab him from behind in the future.

Soon Hawk was finished making food and he handed two of the rice balls first to Cassandra.

He approached her, calling, “Seeker Cassandra?”

“Hawk,” she snapped suddenly. “I heard what you called me earlier. Do not call me that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. You reminded me a lot of my older sister. She’s scary, but dependable, and nothing short of amazing.”

The comparison appeased her before she glanced down at the offering.

“What is that?” she questioned.

“Breakfast,” he said. “I’ll be heading back to Haven now, once I show the Herald of the loot I’ve gathered.”

“You gathered? When?” She asked, raising a brow.

He thought back. “Ohh, around three in the morning? I think.”

“That early? By yourself?” She asked, astounded.

“As always, yeah. Thanks to you guys, the Blades aren’t after me, _but_ there’s been some darkspawn activity in the area,” Hawk told her. “I’ve marked circles on the map. Those are holes that would need to be plugged in, since they might lead to the deep roads, and deep roads mean darkspawn, because, you know, dwarven ruins.”

“I see… We were only here to recruit the Chargers, but I’ll have the Herald investigate this,” She said as she took one of the rice balls and took a bite. “We better close them before things will get worse---Mmm…! Hawk, you are an excellent cook.”

It’s a nice feeling when one of your favorite characters praises you for your cooking.

“What is this called?” She asked as she had already finished her first rice ball.

“Onigiri, or rice ball,” Hawk grinned at that. “So, I hope you guys enjoy breakfast and good luck for the rest of the day… Also, I’ll be doing some work remotely in Haven instead… I think I need a short break after my role of damsel in distress.”

The Seeker snorted, nearly choking in her food. “Now there’s an image,” She mocked me.

Gaping at her, he shook his head, feigning hurt. “ _So much_ like my sister…”

As Hawk started walking away, she called to ask a question that disturbed him.

“Hawk. What was her name?” She asked.

He turned around. “What?”

Her brows furrowed. “Your sister… what was your sister’s name?”

Hawk fell silent for a long while as images of a grown woman, determined and fierce, flashed in his mind. One moment, that lady with long brown hair would be cussing over the Karen’s in her store, and then the next she was making rice balls and shoving the misshapen food right into his mouth to make him choke. 

“Hawk?” Cass prompted, slightly concerned.

“…What was her name…?” Hawk asked that quietly himself, though it was audible enough for the Seeker to hear.

Before she could question him more, the others had come out of their tents, and Hawk resumed to passing out the food. He even gave some to Bull, who gave him a ‘warrant’ look, but the recruit only stuck his tongue at him in defiance and then left plenty of rice balls for compensation.

Once he bid his goodbyes, Ser Mattrin joined him with Nugget and they left for Haven.

However, Hawk left the coast that morning in misery, wondering forever what his sister’s name was.

Ω

A day after arriving at Haven, Hawk found that he could never catch a break.

Madame De Fir, Lady Vivienne herself, was on the snowy ground with Nugget assaulting her with licks and purrs.

“Oh, my goodness!” / “That creature charged someone!” / “Is that a noblewoman?”

Shit, shit, SHIT!!

Hawk wasted no time pulling off the purring behemoth, grabbing her by the reigns to maneuver her away from the former Enchanter to the Royal Court. He pushed her back as much as he could, and Nugget complied, backing up enough to give them space, though she whined, protesting.

Then, he whirled back to Vivienne.

“ _I_ am so sorry, Madame! Nugget didn’t mean you any harm, I swear!!” Hawk quickly apologized as he reached down to help her…

But he stopped when she glared. She gave him a look that could kill and he halted. His instincts were telling him that she was really going to freeze him right then and there, if he dared touch her.

Instead, Vivienne stood up by herself, preserving her dignity.

“You. Are you the handler of this… _nuggalope?_ ” She asked.

At this point, Hawk was afraid. Mostly because he was probably going to be hearing this from both Josephine and Cullen. Plus! What if they’ll label Nugget as dangerous or uncontrollable? Or a beast that should be put down? Oh God! Ah, he messed up big time. He should have kept hold on her reigns tighter. He kept his head low, and decided that he should probably do that Japanese bowing-apologizing thing.

In one swoop, he got down to his knees, kowtowing.

“Please forgive me, Madame! It’s my fault, I should have trained her better and I should have held on the reigns tighter!!” He pleaded desperately for forgiveness. He didn’t want to lose his dear Nugget. “Please! I’ll do anything, and I’ll take any punishment! Just not my Nugget! I swear, I will scold her properly!”

There was a moment of tense silence that hung in the atmosphere before finally the Enchanter let out a sigh.

“You. What is your name?” She demanded.

“Hawk… Hawk without the ‘e’…” He quickly added knowing the confusion. “I’m not related to the Champion, or anything.”

“Clearly,” she retorted without any hesitation.

Well, damn. Though Hawk dared not raise his head to see that icy glaring look.

“See to it, dear, that this does not happen again,” she said.

Hawk watched her feet sauntered through the snow, retaining elegance and repertoire, despite being tackled by a humongous nuggalope into the muddy snow. In the end, he thought she was actually merciful.

When he could no longer hear the snow crunching from her feet, he stood to his feet now, looking behind to see that Madame Vivienne had went through Haven’s gates. At that moment, Hawk took a long inhale before letting out the exasperated sigh.

Was this his punishment for treating Bull like shit? 

He then turned around to glare at the cause of this incident. He went right up to his beloved behemoth, grabbing her muzzle, and said.

“Bad! Bad Nugget! You so bad! You don’t tackle people and lick them like a mabari! Do you have any idea how big you are?!” Hawk scolded. “ _Bad_ Nugget!!”

Nugget let out a whimpering noise as she slowly hunched down to the ground, curling up into a ball. Like Hell was he going to fall for those crocodile tears!

“Bad Nugget!”

The spectators thought otherwise.

“Hey, don’t scold her!” / “Yeah, it’s your fault for not holding on to the reigns!” / “Yeah! She’s just a big, lovable Nug!”

Hawk whirled at the working people and soldiers that had gathered, giving him accusatory looks. Are you kidding me? He thought as he stared down at his precious nuggalope wondering: when did she wrap every townie of Haven around her pinkie toe?

\--

Later, he was summoned into the war room and received an awful scolding both from the Commander and the Ambassador. Geez, was this how Nugget felt when he was scolding her? Talk about karma.

“Hawk?”

He snapped to attention, turning to the Spymaster. “Yes, Ma’am?”

Leliana had her arms somewhat crossed and her finger tapping her chin.

“Why did Nugget lay on her?” She asked. “My report tells me that Nugget moved right towards to Madame Vivienne, taking her to the ground. Nugget began to lick her face and purred. Is that what your pet usually does?”

Hawk shook his head. “Well, I’ve never seen her tackle anyone else but me, but usually, she goes up to people who… would _need_ it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Leliana asked, raising a brow.

“Well… I like to call Nugget my emotional, stress-relief nuggalope,” Hawk told her. “She tends to go up to people who she thinks are feeling stressed or depressed. Animals are usually the most sympathetic creatures, and the purring mostly benefits people, promotes healing both mentally and physically.”

“That’s… I’ve heard of cats doing so, but how does purring also work physically?” Cullen asked, mostly in disbelief.

“Like I said, stress-relief,” Hawk simply answered. “A person heals faster when they are well-rested.”

“Regardless, we can’t have this incident be repeated again, especially if it was another high-profile guest,” Josephine pointed out. “You are lucky, Madame Vivienne left you with a warning.”

Hawk then bowed his head low. “You’re right, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“So long as you understand,” she began to say. “It would be better if you would cook dinner for Lady Vivienne tonight.”

…Huh?

“Uhh, me? Cook?” Was he hearing it right?

“The meals at the tavern had been better than the beginning, and Flissa told us that you’ve been providing her recipes passed down from your Grandmother,” Josephine pointed out. “Knowing that, we’d like you to prepare dinner tonight in order to gain back Madame Vivienne’s good graces.”

‘ _Did I want to be in her good graces?_ ’ Hawk wondered, but he reminded himself that she wouldn’t know him and he _shouldn’t_ know her… that age-defying witch. He recalled there were rumors about her age: that was way older than one would think. However! If he cooked for her, and she likes the food, maybe she would be less mad? He’ll have to really impress her.

Still, this was strange. The way they’re looking at him with such high expectations is suspicious…

In the end, Hawk caved in.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Ω

Madame Vivienne had never suffered such a humiliating event: to be tackled by a humongous, wretched nug. She was still rather crossed with the nug owner—Hawk? Was that his real name? It sounded more like an alias.

She decided to put it behind her, though it still irked her. Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Right now, she was fixing her image to present herself before the three advisors for dinner. She had met them earlier, covered in mud, and their greetings were cut short as Josephine quickly showed her to her cabin and had a servant prepare her a bath.

At least now, they somewhat owe her a small favor for this humiliation.

She walked through the chantry doors and was immediately greeted by the Inquisition’s Ambassador: Josephine Montilyet, and its Spymaster, the Left Hand of the Divine: Sister Leliana. To have excellent supportive positions, she wondered how long can they actually go on without a leader at the helm?

Or perhaps, there was already one, not officially assigned.

“It is a pleasure to have you here with us, Madame Vivienne,” Josephine began with a textbook greeting. “Your show of support to the Inquisition is more than welcomed. We only want to apologize for the incident earlier that Ser Hawk had caused, and I hope we can find a reconciliation with that.”

“Don’t fret about it, dear,” Vivienne said with her chin up. “I’ve put it pass behind me, knowing that I am here to show my support for obvious reasons.”

Josephine was definitely a lady of the court, and with their words interpreted, the ‘obvious reasons’ was definitely about the future of the Magi Circles.

“Yes, and while we’re at it, why not have dinner with us?” Josephine offered.

“I’ll gladly take your offer,” Vivienne responded.

And so, they went into another room, taking their seats. The Commander wouldn’t be joining them for tonight, saying he still had a couple more things to do. Still, Vivienne thought there was a lot of potential for this Inquisition, and she would be a fool not to seize this opportunity.

“Lady Ambassador Josephine,” Vivienne began.

“Oh, Josephine will be just fine, Madame.”

“Then same for I as Vivienne,” the Former Court Enchanter said. “Now, regarding the matter with the breach, I hear that the Herald attempted to close it?”

“He did, but unfortunately, the damage upon the sky will require more power to close than one person could do, at the moment,” Josephine said.

She raised a brow. “And I gather the Inquisition is slightly leaning towards the rebel mages to ask for help?”

“As you may have heard by now, the Templars have left Val Royeaux, but the mages are offering their assistance,” Josephine said. “We are still deciding on which side to approach.”

“Still, it wouldn’t be wise to turn down the offer,” Leliana stated. “The sooner we can close that breach, the better for us to find the true enemy behind this chaos.”

_Seeking vengeance, I see_ , Vivienne thought coyly as she could see the cold glint in those green eyes.

Before more words were shared, the door opened and two servants came in with the food as they pushed in the cart. They took the bowls and placed it in front of the ladies carefully. That’s when the three of them noticed something odd about the bowl; it was closed.

Vivienne leaned in close just a bit to inspect the bowl. The design was minimal, merely black, but the color was nicely polished. There was another black saucer on top with four clips equidistant to each other that attached itself to the bowl, hiding the meal.

“Miria, what is this?” Josephine asked the elven servant in green clothing.

“ _C-chef_ sent this meal with his specially crafted bowls, Milady,” Miria responded. “Shall I open it for you?”

“Y-yes. Please.”

Honestly, this was already above Josephine’s expectations. She recalled Leliana sharing the reports when the Herald and his party rescued Hawk and Ser Mattrin. The longest report had to be about the scout’s cooking. A spicy, sour, yet sweet and savory stew with pickled cabbage and soft chunks of meat that melted into their mouths. Then, there was something called ‘rice balls’ which is a ball of rice shaped into a triangle with some type of green herb wrapped around it and flavorful saucy meat hidden within the white grains. The way the Herald had written about it made them wonder more about the foods that Hawk can make other than the recipes that he had given Flissa to cook.

Of course, this shouldn’t be a big deal, but their curiosity got the better of them when even Cassandra, Solas, and Scout Harding mentioned his food.

Using Vivienne was the ultimate excuse to try out Hawk’s food.

Still, Josephine didn’t think Hawk would even use such nice bowls. Despite the minimal design on it, the shape looked rather lovely.

Miria unclipped the four clasps on the lid, and as she slowly removed it, hot visible steam escaped, and a beautiful decoration was set before them.

“What… is this?” Vivienne asked.

Thankfully, Miria answered for them. “T-The Chef called it _Fa_.”

Josephine tilted her head. “ _Fa?_ ”

“I had never heard of such a recipe,” Vivienne remarked.

“It certainly seems too pretty to be eaten,” Josephine added, though the broth’s gentle scent wet her appetite.

Leliana started first, picking up a spoon and placed it in the broth. Its translucent color gathered in the spoon along with the cut green ringlets. She brought it to her lips and poured it in. Vivienne watched as the Spymaster mulled over the flavor. She didn’t say anything, but instead, she continued to drink from the soup.

Josephine pouted at Leliana’s way when she didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t spit it out. She bravely picked up the spoon and dug in.

Vivienne did the same, bringing the spoonful of broth to her lips. The gentle scent of the broth calmed her and enticed her appetite. It didn’t look inedible at least. When she finally took a sip, the flavor barely registered in her head. It was something unrecognizable but nothing unpleasant. There was definitely chicken in this, but then she never had a broth so gentle as this. The broth also contained translucent thin noodles that were easy to chew, strips of chicken, slices of onions, crisp chips that taste like garlic, and dices of herbs. Did all these ingredients make it so savory and yet light?

All in all, it was so pleasant that they had forgotten to speak and were completely taken in by the meal.

“Hawk has outdone himself,” Josephine said.

Vivienne paused from her meal. “ _Hawk?_ ”

The ambassador wondered if it was too soon to reveal the cook, but she followed up. “Yes. After what he did today, I had him make dinner as an apology to you. I hope the meal was to your liking.”

“It was… he dressed like a soldier this morning,” Vivienne said. “I had no idea he was your cook.”

“He isn’t officially our cook,” Leliana said. “He is one of Cullen’s scouts. A gifted one at that. I’m sure when you’re working with Herald, you’ll get to see him a little more often.”

“The Herald is fond of him?” Vivienne asked.

“Perhaps, but that isn’t the reason,” Leliana remarked. “You will understand soon. He makes things easier.”

\--

“Junior, this is the best soup I’ve ever had,” Varric said. “What did you call this again?”

“ _Pho_ ,” Hawk answered easily as he continued eating the bowl of pho with two custom-made wooden chopsticks of his own.

“How… are you eating that with _those?_ ” Cullen questioned, pausing from his meal.

Somehow, Hawk managed to convince the commander to have a bowl of this ‘Fa’. He had seen the guy passing by and called him out. He gave him a small taste and before he knew it, the commander asked for a bowl. Lieutenant Rylen was also with him, having a bowl of his pho.

“These are chopsticks,” Hawk said. “The culture eat it with these things. I always found it fun.”

“And which culture would that be?”

Hawk slowed down a bit as he thought of which country here in Thedas would use chopsticks until he realized it wasn’t actually from this world.

“Junior?” Varric prompted.

“…I can’t remember,” Hawk said, shrugging like it was no big deal as he proceeded to shovel almost all the noodles in his mouth. Then he placed the chopsticks down and picked up the bowl, gulping it all down. He let out a satisfied sigh as he set the bowl down only to notice the rest of the table staring questionably at him.

“What?” Hawk questioned.

“Don’t you have any manners?” Rylen asked.

“Dude, you should just enjoy the food while you’re still alive,” he said. “That’s how you should live your life. Then again, I’m a half-full glass kind of guy.”

“What is a _dude?_ ” Cullen questioned, putting the table manners aside. “I’ve been hearing you say such strange words, and I don’t like how you’re influencing the other recruits.”

“Dude means…well, dude. Like guy, but like a normal guy,” Hawk stumbled over the explanation.

“Is that the same when you use _‘Hey Man?’_ ” Rylen asked.

“Yep. Dude, man, _asshole_ , same shit,” Hawk concluded, causing Varric to choke.

The dwarf then took out his notepad and proceeded to write quickly with the quill and ink he got out of nowhere.

“I need to take notes of the shit you say, Junior,” Varric said. “You’re one of a kind. Hey, where did you say you were from again?”

“I’m from _North_ wherever,” Hawk answered.

“Did you get that from the Herald?” Varric questioned. “He said the exact same thing when Sera wouldn’t tell him where she was from.”

Oh shit. He was stealing Malcolm’s lines.

“He sounds like he’s from Orzhammar,” Rylen noted. “Wasn’t there like a human village near that place? Just for the merchants.”

“There is,” Hawk confirmed. “If you ask the right person, they got some good alcohol made from Juniper berries, and if distilled correctly, you can get _gin_.”

“Come again?” Varric inquired with his eyes lit up. “ _Gin?_ ”

“Oh yeah, fancy alcohol,” he said. “I think I have a bottle in my wagon.”

Varric grinned. “That means you’re sharing, right?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Cullen said as he actually finished his bowl of pho.

“I’ll stay!” Rylen said eagerly, and then the commander shot him a look. He withered a moment, protesting, “It’ll only be a shot. Just a small shot of it!”

As Cullen let out a defeated sigh, Hawk grabbed some bread before heading out to the cold, freezing weather. Thankfully, the pho had heated up his body enough to withstand it for an hour or so. It was so strange how the herbs here, even the tasty ones like ginger, had magical properties to them like cold resistance.

Nugget cooed aloud from her stable when she saw her owner approaching.

“Hi, my Nugsy-wugsy, here you go. Just a treat,” Hawk said, holding out the bread for her to munch on and she happily ate it. She could eat anything really like some mabari. “I’m just here to get a bottle, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“You talk to her often.”

Hawk jumped in the air when that voice came out of nowhere. He whirled around to see it was Leliana, who was leaning against the idle dark wagon.

“Ohhh… Ohhh, fuck my heart, Sister…” Hawk groaned dramatically, clutching at his chest. “…I think… I think I nearly leapt to the Maker’s side.”

Leliana let out a small laugh. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Where you standing there the whole time?” Hawk asked. “Or did I interrupt you and Nugget?”

Her smile fell a bit. “…Yes. To both. You’re quite perceptive.”

“Your cheeks are really red,” Hawk pointed out. “Either you were drinking, or you were out here longer. It’s fine if you talk to her. She’s like a personal therapist, always there to listen. Best part is that she’ll never spill your secrets, because you know, she’s a giant nug.”

“ _Therapist_ … you speak a set of unique words, Hawk,” she said. “…If that is even your name.”

“it’s my last name.”

“And your first name?”

Hawk pursed his lips. “Umm… is it required?”

“…The food was delicious. That _Fa_ , you cooked,” Leliana changed the subject. “Madame Vivienne was certainly impressed by it, even Josie. You may not realize it, but your recipes changed many perspectives. The soldiers are often looking forward for their meals rather than drinks…”

Uh-oh. Was she finally going to interrogate him? Oh shit, what did he do wrong? Is he going to have to leave?

Hawk decided to remain quiet, pursing his lips tighter as he waited for the spymaster to finish.

“And yet, cooking isn’t your only skill,” She said. “You’re also resourceful… From the Herald’s reports, I’ve heard you’ve found holes where darkspawn would emerge. A couple of them did. Because of that, they were able to close them before more would rise. How you manage to find those holes, along with the shards from the skulls, and ores and herbs is entirely beyond me. It is as if you know exactly where they are.”

“I get that a lot…” Hawk hesitantly answered.

“…Where are you from, Hawk?” She asked the question he always dreaded and avoided, but he couldn’t dodge it this time. Not from the spymaster. Her word and trust meant everything. It meant that he could stay here and not be labelled as an enemy spy or something.

Out of everyone, should he tell her?

Hawk lowered his head as he thought about it. At this time, Nugget had leaned in, nuzzling to his face and purring loudly.

“You’re shaking,” Leliana spoke.

“Yea…” Hawk remained quiet for a while then he slowly turned to her. The look on his face made her falter as her brows raised in surprise. Nothing ever phases the spymaster, but tonight, the expression on his face haunted her a bit.

“…Do I-I have to say it?” He asked her. “…To stay… do I have to say where I'm from…?”

Nugget cooed and purred louder, trying to comfort his sobbing shoulders.

Ω


	6. Kick Ass, Take Names

Ω

Hawk heaved out a heavy sigh as he saw the sun rising above the huge mountains. Meanwhile, his little Nugget was prancing about with the wild druffalo in the area. At the beginning, they disliked her as they would charge her and she would run from them, but now, they tolerated her existence. Two druffalos were even playing battering and ramming with her—all play, no fight. Nugget is a baby girl.

He should be fine with this shipment, right?

Looking over his shoulder, his wagon was filled to the brim with resources he scoured all over the area of Haven. By the way, it’s not like iron rocks would grow back on the boulders. There were just plenty enough of it. It was the same thing for the herbs. They never grow back on the same spot, but there’s always plenty of them. He wondered why Leliana can’t just send their scouts to scavenge these things weekly.

> _“You’re also resourceful… it is as if you know exactly where they are.”_

That’s true for the most part. The other part is that he’s just ridiculously lucky. Secretly though, almost every herb has some type of magical property to it. Subtle or prominent, he could somewhat sense it. It was the same for ores and metals. Magic was just everywhere.

Hawk let out a whistle.

“Nugget! Let’s go!”

Then Nugget let out a wailing noise before dropping to her side, playing dead.

“Ah! NO! Noooo! No throwing tantrums!”

\--

It was half an hour later when Nugget finally returned with her owner, pulling the cart all the way back to Haven. Hawk then noticed a lot of commotion going on as more tents were being pitched out, then he spotted the Chargers not too far from the stables, already doing drills. Huh.

Did they just arrive at Haven today? Then, that would mean…

Hawk glanced over at the open-entrance of Haven’s gates and from afar, he recognized the back of the Herald’s head and Cassandra’s hair.

Ah! Let’s not forget ‘Egghead’.

Hawk cringed. Oh, he was dreading it now. He had been avoiding the elf for a long time, ever since their first dream encounter back in the Hinterlands. When Solas found out that he was connected to the fade, his only excuse was that he _practiced_. That answer was so full of shit, the dread wolf didn’t need to sniff it.

Fuck it. He’ll deal with the problem when it comes.

Hawk continued to lead Nugget to Threnn’s requisition table, all the way to the front of the Chantry. So far so good, no Egghead.

“Okay, be serious. _Where_ did you find all these?” Threnn demanded, crossing her arms. “Are you sure _these_ are just around Haven?”

Hawk blinked at her. “Uhh… Yeah! They’re _everywhere_. I let Nugsy play with the druffalos while I worked my ass off gathering this.”

Threnn grumbled under his breath, something about useless, stupid subordinates. Then she sighed, “Sorry. I’m not angry with you. We’re always thankful that you find plenty of resources for the Inquisition. It is just a shame that there’s only one of you with such a talent.”

“And that’s why I was a wandering peddler,” Hawk said, grinning. “I find good shit.”

“ _Hawk_.”

Hawk turned right around to face the familiar tranquil. “Oh! Hey, Avexis!”

Threnn, of course, couldn’t handle the sight of her. “I’ll…just start counting these.”

As she turned to take inventory, Hawk resisted to roll his eyes at her. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable, but she’s still a person. Now that he knew it was only temporary and it was something that initiate Seekers do---that’s a secret.

“So, Avexis, what do you need?” He asked.

And she said, “I wish to learn to fight.”

Hawk’s jaw dropped, and he wasn’t the only one. Threnn, who overheard, whirled back around, staring at the tranquil with eyes the size of saucers. Avexis stared straight at Hawk, conveying her seriousness, before she turned her gaze to Threnn, who immediately averted and went back to counting.

Hawk blinked several times, before finally remembering how to talk.

“Um, Avexis…? Are you…sure?”

“…You offered it to me once… Remember?”

Hawk’s brows raised. “I did…?”

> <<\-- <<\--
> 
> _“Hey, Avexis. You can’t use magic anymore, right?” Hawk asked. “Why not try taking up some daggers? Or bow and arrow? You’d be a badass assassin.”_
> 
> _Avexis tilted her head at him. “…If that is what you prefer.”_
> 
> _“Only if you think you prefer it,” He told her. “Besides, it’ll be fun. You could kick ass and take names like a badass.”_
> 
> \-->> \-->>

“…Oh yeah… I did.”

There was a momentary silence between them, Hawk cleared his throat and asked.

“Is that what you prefer?” He asked her.

“…Yes.”

“…Okay then!”

_Entry log of today: I am teaching a tranquil on how to use daggers… Neat!_

As soon as his business was done with Threnn, Avexis followed the entire way as they dropped Nugget off at the stables and Hawk took out a couple of things from the wagon, but he set it aside. He then gestured her to follow and they got to a more open area where they could train with ease.

“First, before I teach you blades, let’s start on some kung——I mean fighting stance basics that my grandma taught me!” Hawk quickly amended.

“I understand. Proceed.”

Ω

“Nugget did what now to Madame Vivienne?” Malcolm inquired as the advisors were making a list of what was going on and the letters that were sent when Josephine briefly mentioned about Nugget tackling Vivienne to the ground.

Josephine sighed. “Hawk claims Nugget to be an ‘emotional, stress-relief’ pet. She goes up to people who she thinks are feeling stressed, or depressed.”

“Dogs and cats do that often,” Leliana said. “It’s not too farfetched for nugs.”

“It’s a _War_ nug,” Cullen corrected.

Malcolm couldn’t help but to laugh at that, retorting, “Hahaha! No, she’s not.”

And the commander sighed. “…It could be, if it can be trained.”

“And so, what did Vivienne do to Hawk?” Malcolm asked. Despite the situation being humorous, she is an ally and a guest.

“Oh, after apologizing, I had Hawk cook dinner for us last night,” Josie answered cheerfully. “After reading your reports on, not just the Storm Coast, but the food he made, it was only right for us to have a taste.”

“What did he make?” Cassandra asked. She remembered that day when he made those ‘rice balls’, and she wondered if he made more. In fact, when Hawk left that morning, it left the whole team wanting more.

Leliana smiled thinly. “It was the most exquisite broth that we have ever tasted. Cullen usually skips meals, but I heard he finished a whole bowl of _Fa_ last night.”

Cullen flushed at that. “W-well… I must admit it was exceptionally good. It can’t be compared with Ferelden Stew.”

“Indeed!” Josie agreed. “It was so… _comforting_. It paired well against the cold weather. The broth warmed us all instantly. And the _noodles_ were so thin and light, easy to eat light for dinner.”

Cassandra and Malcolm now eyed at them with a bit of jealousy. This was ridiculous, but now they can’t stop thinking about this Fa. Is it just like that KIM-CHEE stew from that night? This Fa sounded more fulfilling.

“Perhaps we should have him cook again tonight,” Malcolm suggested.

“I agree,” Cassandra added.

“He was also about to share a bottle of _gin_ with Varric last night,” Cullen suddenly said. “But he didn’t return…”

Leliana then spoke. “That would be my doing. I spoke with him briefly.”

Malcolm already had an idea of how Leliana operated, and she probably did more than just talking. He felt awful agreeing with Leliana before, but indeed, it was strange. Weeks ago, in the Hinterlands, it still bugged the herald on how Hawk knew he was going to Val Royeaux. Of course, there was the possibility that maybe one of them mentioned it, but Malcolm only received the letter that morning when Hawk returned with the ‘loot’.

It didn’t sit well with him, but after that morning, he wrote a message to investigate Hawk. He only knew the recruit for the first two days after all, and Leliana agreed to it.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“It is concerning that he knew you _were_ going to Val Royeaux,” Leliana said. “So, when he arrived back from the Hinterlands and was asleep, I had my scouts check the wagon. He has a lot of goods. Salt, sugar---every expensive ingredient hidden in the secret compartment of his wagon, sealed in jars.”

“So… he’s a peddler, who happens to be a very good cook?” Malcolm questioned. “…Who happens to find all the shards both in the Hinterlands and the Storm Coast?”

“Let’s not forget, he is still finding plenty of resources around Haven,” Cullen added. “He does it better than other scouts.”

“Yes, I spoke with him about how he was… _resourceful_ ,” Leliana said. “…I started to ask him where he came from.”

“The Herald tried asking him that too, but he kept dodging the question,” Cassandra pointed out.

Cullen also affirmed, “Indeed. Varric tried to ask him, but Hawk’s answer was ‘I’m from North wherever’.”

The Herald whirled at him. “…That’s… what I said to Sera… But he wasn’t there that day. He was back at the Storm Coast, captured by the Hesserian Blades.”

“Which you said that you only knew because Solas made contact with him in the fade,” Cassandra pointed out. “And yet, Solas said that he isn’t a mage.”

Malcolm sighed as he turned back to Leliana. “Did he properly answer you?”

Leliana closed her eyes for a moment then she let out a silent sigh. “…Nugget…started to comfort him, and she purred…”

> _“She tends to go up to people who she thinks are feeling stressed or depressed.”_

They fell quiet at that. 

“…I didn’t pry anymore after that…” Leliana said. “…If he was working for the enemy, he would have killed us by now with the meals he provided… I believe he is just simply here to help.”

Malcolm felt at ease with that. “Yes… that’s what I believe too.”

“But! He is still hiding something from us,” Leliana stressed. “We’ll have to remain vigilant with him.”

_Knock, knock!_

Cassandra went to get the door and see who it was, as Josephine took in a breath and sigh, releasing all tension.

“Well, now that we deem Hawk as safe for the time being, we should go back and discuss about which group to approach—”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Cassandra’s snarl startled them all as they turned to her. “What do you mean by _him_ training a _tranquil_ how to _fight?!_ ”

Malcolm couldn’t help, but knowing that ‘him’ might be Hawk.

\--

Hawk started off with teaching her self-defense techniques.

As a tranquil, her sense of danger would be gone, but if trained physically, the body would still move without the mind. In a sense, she’d be like a weapon, and Hawk was aware with the danger of that. The only reason why tranquils were considered harmless was because they wouldn’t know how to do anything else other than menial tasks. A tranquil that can use knives and just operate to kill without any remorse or hesitation is a frightening idea.

The scary part about this is that Avexis was learning _fast_.

_Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless——like water._ Avexis can become the next Bruce Lee. Hawk would surely tend to it.

Hawk paused when he noticed Avexis’ movements seemed haggard.

Duh, she’s _emotionally-detached_ , not a zombie with endless stamina.

“Okay, break,” Hawk said. “Great job, Avexis, but I think this is your limit. You should rest for a bit.”

Avexis panted softly. “I… I can still…”

“No. This is an order. Rest. Then we can start again,” he said as he went to grab a flask and handed it to her. “Here. Have a drink.”

Avexis tentatively took the flask and eyed at it for a while before taking the cork off and getting a drink.

“Hey! Hawk!”

Hawk stiffened a bit and forced a smile on his face as he turned around to see Bull approaching him with two of his Chargers: Krem and Skinner. Ahh…shit.

“Bull!” Hawk greeted. “So nice to see you…!”

Bull gave him a look. “Why did that sound like a lie?”

“No, no, no, why would I lie?” Hawk asked, trying to change his tone.

“You _suck_ at lying.” And that was Avexis blatant comment which stunned Bull and the two chargers.

“…Lying aside, why are you training a tranquil?” Bull asked Hawk.

Avexis answered instead. “Before, Hawk had said that he will teach me if I prefer to learn it. Today, I prefer to learn it.”

“…Can a tranquil decide that on their own?” Krem asked, raising a brow at Avexis, as this was slightly bordering the unnatural of what was already wrong.

Hawk scoffed. “Krem, that’s like asking if _this unit has a soul_.”

The Tevinter stared blankly at him and the recruit lowered his head at his failed attempt of reference. “…Never mind. Point is I’m not forcing her if that’s why you’re here to investigate. In fact, right now, she’s taking a break.”

“Yeah, we were curious, but,” Bull drew out. “Skinner here actually wants to have a match with you.”

Hawk straightened up. “Come again?”

“Have a match with me, Shem,” Skinner demanded. “Or are you _scared?_ ”

“I’m already scared!” Hawk protested. “I’m sorry, but you look like you’re hiding knives, and you’re just waiting for the right time to cut my balls off!”

“I wouldn’t do that!” She said, then added, “…To you.”

“Oh, lucky me, and boo-hoo to the next unfortunate soul.”

She rolled her eyes. “Will you fight me or not?”

“…I guess… rules though!” Hawk added quickly. “Not the crotch, or the _boobs_ , or the throat.”

Skinner raised a brow. “ _…Boobs?_ ”

Oh right. They wouldn’t know that word.

Hawk gestured to his chest. “Them small mountains—— _Oh shit!_ ”

Skinner lunged right at him, already starting the match to kick his ass. All the while, Hawk spouted frantic apologies as he emotionally got himself ready for this match.

Bull found the recruit a bit _tactless_ , but he had to admit, the kid has an unorthodox style of fighting.

When Hawk was training the tranquil on how to disarm an enemy while being grappled from behind, Bull watched his movements. From just the way a person moved or execute an attack, he could easily tell what technique they used, like how Cullen would have his men angle their shields as if they were blocking magic attacks. But, the more he watched Hawk, he couldn’t figure it out. Everything seemed new. Sure, there were the _basic stances_ , but they were slightly different. And, he wasn’t making it up.

In fact, his fighting style was _adaptive_ to whoever he’s fighting against.

So far, Skinner hadn’t landed a successful punch or kick against Hawk, who’s been actively evading and blocking every attack, as if he could see them coming. Bull wondered how even the Blades of Hesserian captured Hawk in the first place, but then remembered that Ser Mattrin was the reason. Apparently, he was ambushed first and his life was threatened, so Hawk had to surrender.

“What… is he doing…?” Krem asked, wondering if he should be in awe at the recruit’s antics or be disappointed.

Bull was about to answer, but stopped when he saw Hawk catch Skinner’s wrist from the upcoming punch, and then twisting it, forcing her to turn around, and then kicking her from behind. She stumbled right over, nearly falling to the snow, but catching her balance. She whirled back around, frustration on her face.

Hawk paled. “Shit. Sorry, I’m so sorry _—_ — _Yikes!_ ”

“Fight me _seriously_ , Shem!”

Bull’s face fell. Skinner was _not_ winning. She was losing her composure and her movements had become wider and less smart. He needed to stop this match now.

But before Bull could intervene, Hawk finished the fight as he swooped down and swept Skinner off her feet with his leg. She fell on her back, completely exhausted.

Hawk jumped right back on his feet, and frantically apologized, “Skinner, shit! I am so sorry! You know, boob size doesn’t matter! Just like how _eggplants_ wouldn’t matter! Everyone’s beautiful in their own way, and heck, if I was ever a girl, I would want small peaches instead of watermelons! I mean, can you imagine them being as heavy as watermelons? It’s the same with bananas! It wouldn’t function properly! No woman——or man——would want to be ripped apart!”

“Hawk.” Avexis surprisingly cut in and _dryly_ pleaded, “I would prefer if you stop talking. You are spouting stupidity.”

Hawk groaned. “What I meant to say, Skinner, is that I’m sorry! Like Avexis said, I spout out stupid shit. I’m a stupid, ugly shem. Again, I am so, so sorry——”

“Shut up.”

Finally, Skinner got up on her feet. She took a deep breath in and out, before turning around. “…You won.”

Somehow, Hawk took it as a threat. “…Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded again.

Skinner groaned. “No! Ugh! Forget about what you said, you won this fight… but I expect a rematch.”

“Uhhh… sure… so we cool?” He asked her. “Like… you won’t shiv me in the middle of the night?”

Skinner gazed at him for a while before smirking just a bit. “For now…”

Hawk let out a heavy sigh of relief. _That_ was better than nothing. Holy shit, he really had to watch his mouth. Gosh, he needed to watch his words better. This life wasn’t the same reality as he was from. The words he would say would be offensive---of course, that would still be insulting back on _Earth_ , but he wouldn’t get killed over it.

As a guy, feminism could kill him, especially when he was no longer _feminine_.

“HAWK!”

Hawk flinched at the enraged call of his own name like he was in serious trouble.

Ah… He was. Big Sis Cassandra was now marching up to him.

“Ooh… you are in trouble,” Bull sniped, smirking.

Shit! Karma was not done with him!

The Seeker was glaring at him, but then she turned her attention to Avexis and went right up to the tranquil elf first.

“Avexis! Are you alright?” She asked. “What did he do?”

“He is teaching me.” Was her casual reply to the Seeker.

“Teaching you? How to fight?” Cassandra asked and the tranquil nodded in a docile manner, affirming a yes. The Seeker now sought at Hawk with rage, and Hawk wondered why he’s been pissing off a lot of women lately, or was he just really unlucky right now?

But Avexis then added, “However, I preferred it.”

Cassandra spun back to her. “What?”

Then, Avexis, the tranquil, stared straight at the seeker, saying, “He said he would teach me if only I prefer it… Today, I prefer to learn to fight.”

“But… why?”

Avexis was quiet for a while, before finally, giving the Seeker her ultimate reason.

She said, “Because I want to _kick ass, take names_.”

Her answer dumbfounded the Seeker. “…What?”

Meanwhile, Hawk quickly snuck away.

Ω


	7. Who were you before this?

Ω

At sunset, Ser Mattrin returned to his tent.

“Is it safe to come out now?”

Mattrin let out a heavy sigh. “It’s safe. I don’t see the Seeker anymore. Plus, it’s already sundown.”

“Ohh, thank god,” Hawk said as he got up from the templar’s cot. He was currently staying over at his tent to get away from the Seeker, Bull, and possibly every main character of this video game, because… shit.

“What did you do?” Mattrin asked as he started to remove his armor. “Also, I heard a strange rumor that you were teaching a tranquil to fight?”

“Yup… that’s what I’m in trouble for,” Hawk admitted, scratching his head. “I was teaching _Avexis_ how to fight.”

The templar fell silent, mulling over that confession.

“You…are always so…surprising…” Mattrin managed out.

Hawk blinked. “Oh, thank you.”

“That’s not a compliment,” Mattrin quickly shut him down.

“Mattrin, have you seen Hawk…?” Ellendra walked right through the tent’s flap and stopped when she saw both together. Mattrin taking his armor off and Hawk in her lover’s cot. “…Am I disturbing something…?”

Mattrin shook his head. “No…” But then he looked at Hawk’s face and quickly caught her tone. “ _NO!_ No, no! There is nothing between me and him!”

Hawk couldn’t help but laugh at this situation. “Yeah, Ellendra, he’s only stupid for you.”

The Enchanter let out a sigh but then her brows furrowed. “Huh… I feel both relief and disappointment.”

The templar blanched knowingly. “My love, those _comics_ that you read are just that. _Comics._ ”

Hawk whipped his head. “C-comics?? What comics?”

“It’s this…strangely drawn art of stories---She’s trying to have me read one of them.”

Ellendra sighed. “Ohhh, but they’re so good! And very popular in Orlais! Especially with the story starting with ‘The Hobbit’, you need to read that!”

“Hey! Ellendra!” Hawk interrupted. “Were you looking for me?”

“Oh yes! The Herald has been looking for you. He’s in the tavern.”

“Thanks!” Hawk quickly rushed out of the tent.

Later, he arrived at the tavern with the promised bottle that he didn’t get to bring to Varric last night. Predictable. One can always find Varric in a tavern, or somewhere with a fireplace.

“Hey! Junior!” Varric called, waving over him to join the table. In that table, it gathered Malcolm, Sera, Bull, and Blackwall. Huh. They already recruited the ‘Warden’.

“Heeeeey…” Hawk greeted awkwardly as he took the empty seat between Sera and Malcolm.

“Where have you been?” Malcolm inquired coyly.

And the recruit averted his gaze. “Umm… in hiding? Cassandra gave up on trying to kill me, right?”

The Herald assured him, “She wouldn’t kill you.”

“You’re right. She would probably just kick my ass, or talk my ear off, like how she did to Bull,” Hawk said, making Malcolm laugh.

“Ohh, she talked him off even after you left,” Malcolm said, making Bull grumble as that lecture went for nearly hours. He glared at the recruit.

Recruit Hawk stuck his tongue out at the Qunari.

“Junior, you didn’t come back last night,” Varric suddenly changed the subject.

“Oh yeah, I got caught up with Nugget—she’s so cute! Who can compare to her _cuteness?!_ ” Hawk elated aloud and then he held out the clear bottle. “But, anyways! This is it! This is called… _GIN!_ ”

Hawk brought out the bottle, placing it on the table for all to see. The whole party looked over it with varied expressions of curiosity, nonchalance, and skepticism.

“Ain’t that just water?” _Sera_ argued.

Hawk keeled over. “WHA--water?! Huh! Excuse me, Ma’am! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed the bottle and walked away going into the back of the kitchen with Sera just gawking at him for the use of ‘ma’am’. They just watch him go before sharing questionable looks.

Later, Recruit Hawk came back with a tray of six clear glasses, showing a green liquid with some herbs on top.

Hawk placed the tray and handed it out to each of them before taking the last one for himself.

“…Why’s there a vegetable on this?” Sera questioned, picking up the drink and eyeing at it strangely.

Other patrons of the tavern looked over curiously at the table.

“It’s called a _basil_ , Sera,” Hawk said. “Just drink it. But if you don’t want it, you can hand it to Krem.”

“ _Balls!_ ” Was her reply before she took a quick long sip.

Hawk grinned as he drank his own and everyone else bravely took a sip from this drink that looked too nice to be consumed. Although the herb did throw them off, it was appeasing enough to try it.

The drink was received well.

“ _Andraste’s tits_ ,” Varric swallowed, taken back by the flavor and its sharpness.

Hawk choked a bit then he smacked Malcolm’s arm, getting his attention. 

“Did you hear that, Malcolm?” He asked, whispering loudly and seriously. “He was talking shit about your savior’s _tits!_ You should flog him for her body parts!”

Malcolm keeled over and choked because he was stuck between appreciating the taste of this gin, or guffawing at the stupid accusation. He clamped his mouth shut from spitting out the drink as his shoulders shook heavily in laughter. It didn’t help that the dwarf was already laughing.

Sera downed it. “Another!! Give me more!”

“…Did you just _swallow_ that whole thing?” Hawk asked, aghast. “You’re supposed to take it in slowly!”

“ _Euhhh!”_ Sera cringed before letting out a snorty laugh. Bull was guffawing and Varric was shaking his head.

“What?” Hawk blinked. “…Oh wait, I just realized what I said.”

“Come on, Junior,” Varric chastised. “We’re not even drunk yet.”

“If I live in some fancy castle as some noble posh,” Blackwall began. “ _This_ would be my drink. Say, _Junior_. You got any more of this?”

“No, man, I only had one bottle. It will take me a long time to make another,” Hawk said. “And no, my name is Hawk. Only Varric can call me Junior.”

It would ruin the nickname thing if someone else called him that.

Blackwall’s eyes bulge out. “You’re… The Champion of Kirkwall?”

“What? Fuck no! I’m Hawk without the E!” he said his motto. “I’m not related to the Champion or anything. I’m my own person.”

Bull then pointed, “You know, that’s a really good slogan.”

“Yep! Hey… Where did Sera go?” Hawk asked and he wondered how he missed the Red Jenny Monkey from leaving the table.

On cue, Sera returned with the half-bottle of Gin. “GOT IT!”

“ _Nooo!”_ Hawk shouted as the tavern got rowdier because they all wanted more gin and the recruit tried his best to save it.

At the end of the night, Hawk held the empty bottle with regrets. He should have just hidden this until they got to Skyhold or something. Now, he had to go to Val Royeaux and remake this bottle again.

“I’m sorry we had to finish that,” Malcolm conveyed his apologies as they were only two left awake in this table. “…If it’s any consolation, the drink was amazing.”

“Yeah… thanks, man. I knew only _you_ can understand.”

Malcolm chuckled. “Don’t mention it… _Dude_.”

Hawk guffawed. “Oh God, please don’t use that. You sound less posh.”

“You think I’m posh?” The Herald raised an amused brow.

“Not too posh,” the recruit defended. “Like the favorite cliché of tall, dark, and handsome…with some sexy British streak to it.”

“…I think I will take that as a compliment, even if I don’t know what British means.”

“You should… you’re all speaking it…” Perhaps by next morning, Hawk will regret his loose tongue. “Like Solas? He speaks like Welsh. And Sera? I heard it was Derbyshire. Like… I think it has to do with racecars…”

Or wait…wasn’t that horses? …Secretariat!

Malcolm patted his shoulder. “Now, I think you’re talking nonsense, and I believe it’s time to turn in. I will see you tomorrow morning Hawk. Remember, we’re leaving for Redcliffe, first thing in the morning.”

“Okay!”

Ω

“…Shit.”

Nugget cooed, nudging Hawk.

“Okay, okay,” he said, handing her more apples.

It’s been three days now since their trip heading to Redcliffe. He couldn’t remember well enough of that night in the tavern, but apparently, Malcolm asked him to come with him to negotiate with the Rebel mages. Hawk agreed to come eagerly under the influence. Despite telling himself before not to get involved with the Inquisition’s story timeline, he was here…going to recruit the rebel mages and face the consequences.

Honestly, he should have just stayed in the background, like those Agents of the Inquisition.

“I see you’re always the first one up.”

Hawk jumped a bit, spinning around to see it was just Malcolm.

The Herald chortled at the recruit’s reaction.

“Dude…! I nearly shit myself!” Hawk complained. What was up with these people sneaking up from behind him when every time he’s focused on Nugget?

It was currently an hour before dawn, and Hawk, being able to wake up early all the time, he was able to tell when ‘the dawn will come’ (pun well intended). Usually he’d be off gathering materials and all that, but for this time, he didn’t need to as much.

Especially when he’s been assigned to the Redcliffe party.

“What are you cooking?” Malcolm asked, looking over at the pot.

Hawk insisted to bring Nugget though, and with her pulling the wagon, he was able to make them breakfast.

“Braised rabbit,” Hawk said. “Just wait for another hour, when the sun’s up, breakfast will be ready.”

“I’ll be honest… I’ve never been so glad for you to come and save us from Ferelden stew,” Mahanon said.

“Ferelden stew is not that bad,” Hawk said. “It just needs some adjustments, like some cream, salt and pepper.”

“ _Cream?_ ” Malcolm questioned. “Where do you even get cream?”

“I have my ways,” Hawk smirked then his expression turned serious, quickly adding, “And no. Nugget’s not lactating.”

“Oh Maker.” Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrous claim.

Hawk smiled warmly, watching the Herald for a moment. Malcolm seemed so…normal, compared to the other characters in this circus, but he wasn’t undeserving of the spotlight. Rather, he was forced into it. Did he dislike it? Does he resent it? The way he carried himself… he was more than just some playable character created from a computer.

“Hey Malcolm…? Who were you before this?” Hawk asked.

Malcolm turned his head, a bit surprised. “I… why are you asking?”

“Just curious. I was just a peddler before all this happened,” Hawk admitted. “…Unless, of course, it’s too uncomfortable and extremely rude for me to be prying into your personal affairs, we can change the subject.”

“No, no, that’s not it--” Malcolm stopped himself then changed his tone. “My apologies, it’s just… no one had asked me that before.”

Hawk's eyes widened “…Really?”

“I mean Cassandra asked where I was from, but that was about it,” he said. “And Leliana used her connections to gather every speck and dirt on me, just in case I run away, but I don't believe that counts as getting to know a person.”

Hawk opened his mouth, but stopped, when he heard the last part. “Wait... _Run away?_ ”

“…I’ll be honest, Hawk. I don’t think I’m the right person for this,” Malcolm said. “I don’t even believe that I was sent by the Maker, nor am I Andraste’s chosen. I think I was just the guy who ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Actually, it would be the right place at the right time,” Hawk stated the truth that Malcolm will never know. “I mean, honestly, we would all be screwed if you didn’t survive the Breach.”

“…Because of this?” Malcolm asked, glancing down at his left hand that glowed, bitterly.

Hawk winced. “I mean… _dude_ , no one else has your hand.”

It fell quiet between them, and quiet in a conversation never always sit well with Hawk, unless he was occupied with cooking, or crafting, or something to keep him busy from this awkward silence.

“SO!” Hawk piped in. “Were you… a _chantry boy?_ ” He emphasized that with a redneck accent.

The Herald whirled at him. “A _what_ now?”

“A _Chantry boy!_ Like a Roderick, but like younger and preaching like, _‘The veal holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her bacon and her shield!’_ ”

Malcolm found himself laughing again. “No! I’m not a _Chantry boy_ ,” he said, mocking the redneck accent. “And I don’t think that’s how the chant went.”

Hawk grinned when the Herald smiled again. “Okay, so not a devout. Uhh… let’s see… a prolific player?”

“You say such strange words,” Malcolm said but he was smiling. “But if you _must_ know, I was the third son of Bann Trevelyan.”

Hawk tipped his head. “Ahh, so you don’t get the right to the family inheritance, but rather, you had to choose either to work for The Chantry, become a templar, or making it out on your own against your family’s wishes.”

“Ah-…Yes… _Yes_ , actually,” Malcolm responded, taken back at how accurate that was.

Oh, nobility drama. So predictable. Hawk read too many manhua novels over shit like this.

There was a loud yawn as Bull was coming out from one of the tents. He stretched his arms out then his eyes looked over at the pot. He glanced about before his eyes landed on Hawk. The big qunari then approached him and the Herald.

“What are you cooking?” He asked.

Malcolm covered his snort and Hawk blanched a bit. “He asked me the same thing… I was braising the rabbit, but also making curry out of it with rice.”

Bull raised a brow. “Is it _your_ rice?”

What?

The recruit raised a brow. “Rice is rice, man.”

“No, this one’s different,” Bull claimed. “Your rice is…tastier? Even without the seasoning.”

Malcolm then asked, “Why are you worried over rice?”

Bull then started to tell them a story of a Charger’s earlier days of when they did some gigs. One of them had them help an entire village from bandits, but because the villagers didn’t have coin, the Chargers were paid with eight large bags of rice. They had to eat it all, and developed an adverse taste to it. Hawk just laughed as he went to prepare the curry powder, flour, and water.

They watched off the side as Hawk opened the lid, and the bomb smell of spices hit the air, spreading the area about. The scouts and soldiers accompanied with them had stopped and looked over at the huge pot, wondering if the share is large enough for all of them.

Hawk remembered every recipe that his grandmother passed down to him. It was an enjoyable past time between the two, and when he got a bit older, he learned new recipes outside the Asian cuisine. Then, he would teach her those recipes, and they would try and make a fusion out of it, just for fun. His parents and his sister were wonderful guinea pigs as they would taste the food and critique it, but the plates will always come back empty.

Varric had gotten out of his tenth, fully clothed and ready for the day.

“Junior,” he called. “You should cook every morning. I woke up immediately after the aroma made it to my tent.”

“This is only for now, because I said yes to the Herald.”

Not long after, Vivienne was out of her tent as well, prepared for the journey.

As soon as the food was ready, Hawk passed them out with the bowls provided and everyone dug in, enjoying their warm hot breakfast in silence. It was a little heavy, but they felt a bit more invigorated. Fortunately, there was enough left for the rest of the scouts and soldiers whom were lucky to accompany the Herald today.

“Hawk.” Vivienne called.

“Uh yes?” He responded hesitantly, still thinking that maybe she was mad at him for not controlling Nugget better.

“Did you put _ginger_ in this?”

Hawk’s brows raised. “You know what ginger tastes like?”

“Yes, and it’s not an easy ingredient to acquire,” she said. “After all, it carries medicinal properties. It is said to cure colds, migraines, stomach pains, and other common illnesses. And, the crop can only be found in Rivain.”

The others paused at that as they remember Rivain’s sticky disposition. It’s not exactly a place that can be visited without the dangerous risks and consequences attached to it.

“I got lucky,” Hawk answered, after swallowing a spoonful. “Once I got enough ginger, I started growing them.”

Vivienne raised a brow. “You… grow them? Where?”

“I have a batch in the wagon, but otherwise, I have a place in Orlais too,” he said. “During my peddling years, I just return there to restock, though most people wouldn’t buy the ginger, even though I tell them it’s good. It’s an excellent preventative and it gives a healthy boost to the immune system. Also, if you brew it with tea, add some clovers and a dash of cinnamon, it acts as a healing potion to a certain extent, _but_ its true purpose is deeper than that. It’s cleansing. Any impurities or harmful viruses that were pent up in your system would be flushed. Like detoxification, so…”

Hawk trailed off as they were all staring at him with varying looks of surprise, curiosity, and hanging jaws, especially when he started speaking like he was a scholar of herbs or something.

“…Anyway, that’s what my Grandmother had told me,” He finished as he turned around and focused on finishing his bowl.

==

When they reached the gates of Redcliffe, Hawk gaped at the ‘accelerate’ and ‘decelerate’ rings that appeared in the battle grounds around the twisted rift. Yellow was slow and green was fast, if he remembered.

“Stay out of the _yellow circles!!_ ” Hawk yelled.

At least three terror demons popped out from the unstable rift. Hawk hoped they would heed his words, and they did. They were avoiding both the yellow and green rings until Bull stepped into a green ring and moved faster than usual. The speed of him swinging his giant blade around like a helicopter was frightening to witness.

It shocked the rest, but they soon understood why they needed to avoid the yellow.

Once Malcolm closed the rift, they took this moment to breathe and lament over what had happened.

Vivienne broke the silence first. “None of my reports indicated temporal distortions near these rifts. Interesting.”

_Interesting_ , she says. Hawk winced a bit at that. Maybe those rumors _are_ true? Of Vivienne being centuries old?

Bull let out a displeased grunt. “The fade rift messed up time. See, this is why my people get pissy about magic!”

“I think we could have skipped these things getting weirder, don’t you?” Varric asked the Herald.

And Malcolm responded, “How did you know…?”

It took a moment for Hawk to realize that the Herald was talking to him.

“…Uh…Wha?”

“You said… to stay out of the _yellow circles_.”

OHHhhhhh… Oh shit. Hawk just realized he was getting dumber by each ~~chapter~~ day.

“…It looked weird.” Was his only reply.

Malcolm didn’t buy it. “ _Really?_ ”

“So, like… _there are many mages in Redcliffe_ ,” Hawk said, stealing the Herald’s supposed dialogue. “ _Maybe Fiona will know what’s going on._ We’re here to see her anyway, right?”

Malcolm still gave him a look, but decided to let it go…for now.

Ω


	8. Get OUT

Ω

“Have we met?”

Hawk slowly turned his head to the Tevinter that had unavoidably joined their group after today’s failure of recruiting the mages.

As how the story went, Magister Alexius had beaten them to Fiona and had indentured every rebel mage in Redcliffe. Fiona didn’t remember going to Val Royeaux, because of the time travel Alexius did. Hawk was half-tempted to question her, saying why would the Templars leaving Val Royeaux sound ‘strangely familiar’ if she had never known it? It would cause her to remember, because she’s the only one that had lived within two alternate realities. However, he didn’t get that chance when the story continued to progress.

Enter stage left, Alexius and his son, Felix, and followed by clever dialogue between evil magister and Herald. Felix feigned illness while slipping a note to the Herald. Then they got to the chantry and met Dorian. Dorian began his character introduction before explaining everything to the Herald and his companions about time travel. It’s supposed to be impossible, but the breach had made it feasible. How they got it to work using the breach is still mystery and it’s probably better never to research unto it further.

All the while, Hawk managed to keep his mouth shut throughout the entire scenario.

_Be a background!_ Hawk was so proud of himself. The whole scene went on like it did in the story. He was a good supporting background.

However, Dorian was still waiting for an answer.

Have they _officially_ met? 

“…Nope,” Hawk said, resuming to eat the porridge.

Dorian leaned back, crossing his arms, as he eyed at the recruit longer.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I don’t often forget faces, especially yours.”

Currently, they were back at the Crossroads in Corporal Vale’s encampment. With the Corporal and the soldiers staying in the area, they continued to do good work for the people in Ferelden, strengthening the Inquisition’s reputation. Dorian was here because the Herald invited him to come once he was done finishing up business in Redcliffe. The Tevinter was coming back with them to Haven.

“…Well, your face is unforgettable too,” Hawk pointed out. “I _should_ be able to remember an _evil_ moustache like yours.”

Varric chortled from across the campfire. Bull was smirking, but he kept his vision on the crackling fire. They were trying not to seem like they were eavesdropping, except for Vivienne who didn’t seem all that interested.

Dorian just raised his chin. “What? Surely, _evil_ is not the only word you’d describe for this. What about well-groomed? Dignified?”

Hawk grinned. “Right. And black, fuzzy caterpillar. Hey, when do you think it will grow into a butterfly?”

Varric’s shoulders were shaking in laughter, and Bull couldn’t even keep his under wraps as he let it out boisterously. Vivienne was still ignoring—oh no wait, her lips were twitching a bit.

The Tevinter huffed. “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to understand high class trends.”

“Or dreaded fashion, thank god for that,” Hawk continued to snipe, though Dorian didn’t take the bait.

Instead, he raised a brow at the strange phrase. “ _Thank God?_ ”

“Uh, _the Maker?_ Duh!”

Now, Varric, Bull, and even Vivienne were giving him looks.

“…Do you use the term _God_ as a name, Junior?” Varric questioned.

“With a capital G, Varric.” Hawk affirmed though the dwarf only looked at him more strangely.

“Dear, you are a menagerie of curiosities,” Vivienne said as she was no longer bothered by the presence of a Tevinter mage in their midst, or at least she wasn’t showing it.

Hawk tilted his head as he processed her words. “Thank you…?”

“Hmm.” Was her only response. Thankfully, Malcolm returned, joining them to save him from the awkward stares.

“I sent a letter to Leliana ahead,” he said, sighing. “I did not expect things to come to this.”

Varric supported, “You and me both. Time travel? I’m still wrapping my head around that.”

“There’s still a chance it could just be a hallucination,” Vivienne said. “I wouldn’t put it pass Fiona to be possibly manipulated by _blood_ _magic_.”

“Were those time anomalies not enough as proof that time travel works?” Dorian questioned her. “I’ve been telling you the truth. How else can the former enchanter not remember the Herald, nor inviting them?”

Malcolm turned to Varric. “She looked the same to you, yes?”

“Yeah, it was her,” Varric confirmed. “Still, although I hate blood magic, it’s more believable than time travel.”

“What’s your opinion in this, Hawk?” Bull asked. “I want to hear what you think.”

Once more, the spotlight was on Hawk. He really shouldn’t go with Malcolm anymore. He can never stop his mouth from spilling shit, and they can never seem to stop nitpicking every stupid shit he would say. Why can’t they just ignore him?

“ _Mph! MMMPPH!_ ” Hawk waved him away as he turned to the side and started shoveling the food into his mouth. ‘ _Just chew it over with twix’,_ he thought, remembering the commercials. He should just eat his way out.

“Actually, I too am curious of what you think, Hawk,” Malcolm said in a slightly coy tone. “After all, you were surprisingly quiet since the meeting.”

Hawk swallowed as he slowly set aside the empty bowl. This time, he thought about the time travel, and made sure to watch out for the any stupid shit that would spill out his lips.

“Well… What do you want me to say?” Hawk asked. “Shit is possible. Magic always throws logic and order out the window, so… Yeah. Trippy.”

“ _Trippy?_ ” Varric questioned the use of word, but scribbled it down anyway.

“Yeah, so like… time travel only exists because the person wants to go back in time to change something. Most of the time, time travel means going back to rewrite history,” Hawk began as he glanced up at the sky, thinking. “It’s a bit trippy, because then, Fiona would be the only person that we know, who has experienced a time paradox, but not realizing it.”

Dorian leaned in a bit, questioning, “What is a _time_ _paradox?_ ”

“It’s a sort of _contradiction_. It’s two realities in the same concept?” Hawk questioned and saw they all had blank looks. “Okay, okay, think about Schrodinger’s cat.”

“Who is _Schrodinger?_ ” Varric asked, trying not butcher the name.

“I don’t know, some other science guy,” Hawk dismissed that quickly. “Anyway, imagine Schrodinger’s cat being placed in a box with a bit of poison. You close that box and you leave the cat inside. In that moment, you either believe the cat is dead, or the cat is still alive. Of course, you’d know the state of the cat once you open the box, _but_ before that, Schrodinger’s cat existed in two realities: both dead and alive.”

“That’s why I said Fiona experienced a time paradox. She lived two realities. One where she went to Val Royeaux, and two of which the Tevinter Time-Traveler had meddled. I think if we had prod her further and questioned her why she thought it sounded strange that the Templars were leaving Val Royeaux, she might even remember inviting Malcolm,” Hawk said. “Also, did you see the way she immediately looked to Malcolm first and called him Herald? She already knew he’s the Herald, but she probably didn’t realize that, because you know… it’s fucking crazy as shit to know who someone is, but never meeting them before. Get it?”

It was quiet between them all, except for the furious writing of a certain dwarf. Hawk took in their expressions. Vivienne, of course, was expressionless as she daintily ate her food. Bull had this disgruntled look on his face. Dorian looked like his interests were piqued as he pinched and roll the ends of his evil moustache. Lastly, Malcolm was eyeing with… a look. Hawk couldn’t describe it, but…maybe he was studying him? No… no, something else.

Vivienne finally broke the silence without even lifting her head, “…As I say… A menagerie of curiosities.”

“I think I will take your concept, Hawk,” Dorian said. “And, if we ever get the chance to, it would be good to question her and see what happens.”

Hawk shrugged. “It ain’t my concept, so don’t credit me.”

“So, do you usually converse with educated peers over the topic of time travel?” Dorian asked.

“…No? I’m just a peddler, dude,” Hawk said while Dorian raised an eyebrow at that. “I just know the rules of time travel within the world of theory and fiction.”

“Argh, can we please stop talking about time travel?” Bull complained, unable to contain his discomfort.

Dorian complied, leaning back as he eagerly wanted to question the recruit a little more.

“Oh, very well… but what is a _dude?_ ”

===

===

Solas found himself in an entirely different place from where he slept. There was only one other time where he was brought to another place against his will. It was disconcerting, but the source of the problem didn’t even know how.

Rather he decided to wait until it happened again, and it did.

The place looked like the summer estate of some noble human as Solas could see the two-story manor in the distance coveted with large fields of flowers.

His brows frowned disconcertingly when he spotted the heraldry mark of a serpentine dragon and a fang snake.

_Tevinter._

“An ar’an vi, din em’venan~… ar’an la Mythal ar’an am~…!”

Solas snapped to attention when he heard the song of a folksong long forgotten. Wistful and enthralled, he followed the song sung by tenor voice hat somehow echoed in the woods. Was he even allowed to sing songs of Elvhen in a place that enslaved his people? How did this song even survive after many millenniums had passed?

“Assan’an bora~! Da’vhen sulena! Ha’hren’an din thena~…!”

When Solas arrived at the source, he had forgotten why he was here in the first place. Like before, only one other individual had ever forcefully pulled him into a dream without needing consent. It made him boggle how a non-mage individual would have the power to pull people into his dreams with, perhaps, just wishful thinking. It confused him more how a _human_ would be capable of dreaming such vividness.

However, he was extremely wrong on that _part_.

Hawk was there, a younger version of him, doing some laundry by the river as he sang the song. He was washing bed sheets in the tub, lathering it with a bar of soap.

Solas stood in shock. It’s never been mentioned nor was it ever taken suspicious but Hawk always wore a bandana. Sometimes they were a different color as he would change them every few days, but it was nothing suspicious. It seemed more like his style, and it fit him so well. However, the Hawk in this memory wasn’t wearing a bandana.

The dread wolf stared in shock at his ears.

Finally, Hawk took notice on the visitor and he tilted his head. “Can I help you, Sir?” 

His accent…was normal, which wasn’t the norm for him.

“…Hawk?” Solas spoke, trembling just slightly. “…What… what are you?”

He tilted his head. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ve gotten the wrong person. Are you new here? If you don’t know your chores, you should go see Talos to find you some work. Otherwise, if Brutus sees you not working, he might take out the whip. You wouldn’t like that on your first day. Now if you excuse me, I need to get this done—”

“ _Hawk!!_ ” Solas pressed more urgently, frustration building up in his tone. “I _need_ to understand why you hid them! Why you are hiding that _part_ of yourself?”

The young Hawk was taken back, stopping from washing completely. He looked at Solas like he was crazy, but then he stopped. He stared at him longer before finally his eyes widened as realization took over.

He stood right up and the tub of water spilled over to the ground, dirtying the sheets.

“Shit... Shit!! You shouldn’t _be_ here!” Hawk shouted, now finally regaining his senses back. “Get out! You can’t be here---who asked you to be intruding anyone’s dreams?! You’re crossing the fucking line, Solas!”

“ _I didn’t!_ ” Solas snapped, losing his composure. “Like before, _you_ brought me here.”

“I didn’t--!!” Hawk stopped. He stood there quietly for a few seconds before he whirled about, looking for something or someone, because he stopped at the river, looking down.

“…Why…? Why did you bring _him_ here? To this _place?_ ” Hawk asked, his eyes facing the surface of the river, but Solas couldn’t see what Hawk could.

However, at the moment, Solas didn’t care about what manifestation that Hawk was conversing with. He couldn’t stop staring at his _pointy_ _ears_.

“Hawk!” Solas tried again. “ _Why?_ You were not a quarter elf. You’re--”

“STOP!” Hawk yelled, grabbing his head and covering his ears. “I’m _not!_ I’m NOT! And it’s none of your fucking _business!!!_ ”

The world around them began to shake and crumble as if an earthquake was starting, but the leaves were falling fast like season’s fall, dying, and withering away like the grass shifting to a dry, cracked earth.

Then Solas heard the screeches and wails of demons echoing all around the woods. This was no memory. This was also the fade. Demonic denizens were compelled to gather into this place as Hawk began to deteriorate before him. However, the apostate elf saw none of those creatures in the area as they were keeping their distance. Why?

Perhaps it had to do with the _shadow_ standing right behind Hawk.

A chill ran down the elf’s spines as what he felt from this… _phantom_ was beyond his comprehension. What was it? Why was it with Hawk? He didn’t like the aura emitting from that ghostly shadow. It looked to be a woman though with long dark hair wearing a tunic that reached down just above her knees. He couldn’t see her face, obscured by long bangs, but he could see the hint of bloodshot eyes. Who--… _What_ was that thing?

Slowly, Hawk lowered his hands, which were now covered in so much blood.

“G-Get out…”

Solas’ eyes widened when he finally saw the true form of his ears. Mortified, he tried to call out to him. “…Hawk--?”

He wasn’t having it. The young recruit let out a cry that shook reality apart as a second voice overlapped with his own.

_"GET OOUUUUT!!!”_ **_/ "Ģ̴̡͇̼̙̮̺͉̳͊͘͜Ë̷̞͔̝̗̩̝͍̻̩̬͌̋̂͂̒́̅̚T̴̜͍̱̰̞̰̞͊̚ͅ ̵̧̜̈͂̏O̵̢̢̨͚̭̳͙͇̿Ǒ̶̙͛̏͗͒͋͌̕Ư̵̼̳̍̈́̒͂̈́̈̃Ư̴̞̻͚̺͎̝͖͐̆͆̃̈́̎̚Ű̷͍̬̝̲̤̜̟̯̃̾̑̄͂͑͜ͅU̸̳͔͙̓̈́̄́̿̽͠͝T̴̨̬̥͎͒̇͆̄!̸͇͎͔̐͆̔̒͑͝!̶̯͍̖̙̞͇͈̘͇̊͌̓!̴̘̘̞̹͓̲̐̐̽̾̅̉̃̕!̸̲͐͒̈́"_ **

-

Solas sat right up as he was forcefully pushed out of the dream. He looked out the window and saw that it had to be a couple of hours more before dawn would even rise. What was that? Why was…?

At this rate, he cannot keep this to himself anymore. He will have to go and talk to the Spymaster. Something was up with Hawk, and surely, the Spymaster would have known it.

After all, it didn’t go unnoticed to the elf that the spymaster’s scouts kept constant watch on Hawk, his wagon, and his nuggalope mount.

One thing’s for sure, Solas didn’t need to ask anymore why Hawk was hiding as a human.

===

===

===

Hawk blinked, staring up at the tent’s ceiling, listening to Bull’s snore as he mulled over the unfortunate nightmare he had. He certainly could have handled it better, but now, it was too late. The dread wolf was now hot on his heels.

The recruit let out his frustrations _passively_ and _quietly_.

“…Fffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk~~…”

==

==

==

Ω


	9. Got Trust Issues

Got Trust Issues

Ω

Hawk worked quietly by himself on the wagon as his dearest Nugget pulled it without a rider, just going with the flow of the group. She had always been a sharp little nugget, and if there was any danger, she would always let him know about it.

Right now, they were returning to Haven after complications of yesterday’s event delayed them help from the mages. Now they have a magister to deal with, who was currently occupying the castle of Redcliffe.

Currently, Hawk was making rice balls in the back of the wagon. He had made steamed rice earlier this morning after cooking them eggs of a robin’s nest that he happened to find and river fish that he managed to catch. He was trying so hard not to freak out about the egghead problem, and so he focused on work to keep his mind off from the stressful shit.

“What are you making?” Dorian asked, pulling his horse alongside the open-air wagon.

“Lunch on the road. These are rice balls and should last us until dinner tonight,” Hawk said, a little grateful for the talk. “If you want some, you have to wait.”

“I assume you’re the one that made that extravagant breakfast this morning? Where did you even find the eggs?”

Hawk shrugged. “I don’t know. I just found it on some tree near camp.”

Dorian continued. “And the fish? You caught those rather easily in the morning. In fact, there were several.”

“I caught extra to make for lunch,” Hawk answered.

“And you’re wrapping the crumbled fish with rice?”

“I seasoned the rice in vinegar, sugar, and salt, also a bit of _mirin_. Then I put my own mix of _teriyaki_ glaze on the fish, so it should be flavorful.”

Dorian fell quiet for a while, watching the scout placed a bit of the mashed-up fish on the rice on his hands, before he started shaping it in a triangular shape. When he finished, he wrapped it with a shiny-looking, dark green herb, and then added tiny brown seeds on top.

“…I’ll be honest. I’m very curious of these _rice balls_. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“You’ll have to wait for lunch!” Hawk chided him, ignoring to answer about the origin of rice balls. “It’s still too early for it, but I’m making 3 for each—uhm, Bull gets double of it.”

Bull can be heard letting a quiet ‘yes’ cheer from the back.

Dorian shook his head. “No, I mean, where did you learn how to cook like this? I heard you were also responsible for cooking that delicious porridge last night?”

“Ha! It was actually _Ferelden stew_ ,” Hawk corrected him, grinning cheekily. “I just change it at the last minute, putting all the leftover rice, ginger, salt, and pepper--”

“I’m sorry, pepper??” Dorian questioned with his eyes widening. “You added _black pepper_ on the porridge last night?”

The conversation caught everyone’s interests as they listened in when Hawk simply replied, not knowing what was the big deal. “Yeah! Thank God, if I didn’t, damn! It would have been boiling water with some grey meat and raw veggies.”

“Yes, yes, but _black pepper,_ ” Dorian once again emphasized the importance of the spice. “How much do you have and where did you even acquire them? An ounce of black pepper is worth 5 sovereigns! And you hardly look the part of a rich merchant.”

Hawk whirled his head at that as if it were big news.

“What?? I get about half-a-bucket worth of black pepper for 20 silvers,” Hawk argued. “You must have been ripped off or something.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dorian waved his hand left and right to dismiss the Hawk’s nonsense. “That’s not… who’s your seller?”

“Yes, dear, you must simply share your contact,” Vivienne said as she pulled in her horse closer.

Hawk hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm, I get it from _Rougie_ _Spices_.”

Vivienne’s eyes were close to popping out. “ _Really?_ Are you sure about that, dear?”

“Uhh, yes? Their main shop is in Montfort, right? Though, they also have a second, smaller shop in Val Royeaux.” Hawk said.

Vivienne nodded her head slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Yes… An ounce of their finest black pepper is worth at least _ten_ _sovereigns,_ my dear.”

Hawk’s eyes widened at that. “What—No… no, you’re joking me!”

Vivienne raised a brow. Hawk then remembered the former Enchanter was not one to joke.

“Did you seriously not know, Junior?” Varric asked, stupefied over this discovery. “Do you know the owner?”

“Well, I met the owner and his family,” Hawk said, feeling out of sorts now that he found out about the price of the black pepper he was using. “Whenever I go back to restock in Orlais, I always go to Montfort first and meet up with some friends. The owner—Gaston—would always invite me to stay over. Of course, in exchange, I’ll be cooking for them, not that I mind.”

“If you cook for them, then that certainly sums it up,” Malcolm joined in. “You’re an excellent chef.”

“Ha, I’m not a chef, but thank you,” Hawk said, grinning.

“You would certainly pass up a professional chef,” Vivienne pointed out. “There are many nobles in Val Royeaux who would pay a lot of coin for an excellent chef. The salary alone would last for two or three generations of a chef’s family, depending on who the employer is.”

Hawk clicked his tongue. “Tempting, but I don’t like making food that people had to pay for,” He said. “Food is to share and enjoy, I believe. Besides, I don’t like being made to cook by money. I’d lose my motivation over it.”

Malcolm threw a concerned look. “We’re not forcing you like that here, are we?”

“Oh, no, no! This isn’t like that at all,” Hawk said. “I’m only getting paid because I’m a recruit, not because I’m cooking. Honestly, my salary looks pretty good. The requisition department would keep giving me bonuses for finding a lot of materials.”

“Is that why you went out again in the middle of the night?” The Iron Bull questioned the scout, recalling how he brought back a bunch of materials and resources, including ingredients for breakfast and lunch. “You went out even earlier than usual.” He noted.

Hawk kept a straight face at that. “Yep! Why? Can I not go out and find shit at 3 A.M. in the morning?”

Bull opened his mouth then closed it, confused by something else. “ _A.M.?_ ”

“ _Ante meridiem_ , before midday, meaning the time before noon,” Hawk explained. “If I say, P.M. it’s _post meridiem,_ which is after midday.”

“You know _Tevene?_ ” Dorian this time questioned.

Fuck. Were they not talking about food a while ago? Why was the topic back to him again? It had to be his mouth. His own stupid fucking mouth, just spilling shit whenever it wants.

Hawk then gave Dorian a ‘what the fuck are you talking about look’ while answering, “ _Nooooo…_ Oh, look, look, look!” Then, he pointed to the right, diverting their attention to that direction. “Rift! I saw green sparks! We should go close it!”

The looks they all gave him varied from incredulous to unimpressed. Only Malcolm found it all amusing as he smiled, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Malcolm agreed, consenting to Hawk’s subtle request of topic change. “We’ll go close it.”

Hawk proceeded to avoid the others’ looks, whom were surely telling him that they know he’s hiding shit. It was obvious to everyone’s eyes that he was very different and unique, especially with how he talks. Eventually, they’re going to get the truth out from him.

All the while, the recruit chanted in his head, _‘Please, leave me alone. Please, leave me alone. Please, leave. Me. Alone!’_

\--

The 2-day trip back to Haven was hell to Hawk’s anxiety. He had been jumpy and restless since last night, and the others have noticed it, but they didn’t question it. In fact, they left him alone, which he was extremely thankful for.

However, it didn’t last long when he saw the gates of Haven. He half-expected a troupe of soldiers to come and arrest him at once, but so far, no one was drawing their blades against him.

Hawk led Nugget to her stable, letting her eat and rest from the short journey. He patted her and gave her scratches, enjoying the loud purring that reverberated from her entire body. The vibration and sound were both so… soothing.

“Are you alright?”

Hawk turned around to see it was Malcolm. He relaxed a bit.

“Hey, no, yeah, I’m fine,” the recruit assured him.

Malcolm frowned. “Bull mentioned you haven’t been sleeping last night. You left the tent early again.”

“I had a few hours of sleep, which was enough for me,” Hawk said, then he ranted. “Technically, a person can survive with at least 3-5 hours of sleep, but only on a short-term. It would be ill advised to make it a daily habit, so it was only for last night… yeah.”

The Herald raised a brow at him and he waited.

Hawk’s heart started to race. “Look, if this is about all the freaky crap I’ve said for the last few days, it’s kinda why I usually just work alone! I know I’m acting sus and stuff— _suspicious—_ but if you need me to leave…?”

“What? No! No, no, It’s not that, it’s--” Malcolm paused a moment, recollecting himself as he changed the tone of the conversation. “Look. I’ve noticed you particularly don’t like us prying into your past, and that’s fine. I can understand that it has a lot do with trust, so maybe I should start with my confession.”

Hawk listened to him for a while and his brows furrowed at the last part. “Confession??”

“…Leliana has been keeping an eye on you for a long while now, including her scouts, but I’ve also asked her to investigate you,” Malcolm said, which made Hawk’s heart race fast.

“W-w-why…? What d-did I do?” Already, his eyes darted around for a route of escape, but the only way out was where Malcolm was standing. He could just climb out the stable, but he wondered if he would be fast enough for it.

“Nothing, nothing…! It was just…” Malcolm chose his words carefully. “It’s remarkable how much materials you gather nearly every single day. Leliana and I thought you hid them all nearby, or you had someone transport it for you so that it would improve your reputation before us.”

Hawk slowly blinked. “ _…Say whaaaaa?_ ”

Malcolm turned away, embarrassed. “I mean… Few has your skills of… finding things! You’re the only one that can do that here, and… it just seemed odd. Of course, after much investigation, Leliana said that you just simply find them, even under snow or rock. So, we’ve concluded that we’re lucky to have you on board.”

Hawk bashfully grinned. “Oh? Well thanks, I mean… They’re not really that hard to find.”

Malcolm smiled at that, and he continued. “Of course, Solas also tells me how you can dream in the fade, and yet you’re not a mage…” Then he paused. “Wait. _Are_ you a mage?”

Hawk shook his head fervently. “No, no. I can’t cast _Slugulus Eructo_ and make a person burp up slimy slugs, so _no._ No, magic.” Malcom was gaping a bit as if he wanted to say something about that strange incantation, but Hawk cut him off, continuing, “Anyway, I’m not a mage, but I kept quiet about it, because you know…”

Thedas. Mages. Demons. Abominations.

Malcolm closed his mouth, then he took a step forward, showing only concern on his face. “Are you… in danger of…?”

**_//DEMONS//_ **

Hawk shook his head again. “No. No, they’ve tried. I found out they really can’t, so most of the time, I just mess around with them, like calling them names, playing along with their games, making fun of their illusions, legalizing taco Tuesdays--” He stopped, realizing he was ranting. “Sorry, I rambled, but yeah, I usually just piss them off.”

The Herald gave him a long look. “…You taunt the demons in your dreams?”

“I taunt them in the real world too!” Hawk said proudly.

That startled a laugh out of Malcolm. “Are you sure you’re not related to the Champion of Kirkwall?”

Hawk grinned at that, then Malcolm turned his attention to Nugget and he reached out to stroke her head. She let out a soft coo and leaned in closer to the Herald.

“…She isn’t purring anymore,” Malcolm pointed out.

Hawk opened his mouth, before he slowly closed it. His heart was calm again. His fingers absentmindedly traced the nuggalope’s soft skin as there were many little tiny fur-hairs growing out.

“Thanks… you didn’t have to tell me, but you did,” Hawk said. “I… I will try to do better.”

Malcolm only nodded, though he smiled, knowing they’ve made a bit of progress. He could have stayed longer, but a scout approached them, informing the Herald that the advisors were requesting his presence. Malcolm bid him good bye as he left with the messenger.

Hawk watched him go and his eyes glanced down for moment, catching sight of the Herald’s ass, before he quickly turned his head away, realizing what he was doing.

“No, no. No, no. Bad Hawk. _Baaaaaad._ ”

\--

Hawk bravely approached the cabin of Haven’s resident apostate. He wasn’t as anxious as he was before, not after he had that talk with Malcolm. Despite his own weird antics, the Herald and even the Spymaster seem to trust him at a certain point. Hawk wasn’t sure where the line was, but so long as he kept providing for the Inquisition, he won’t be in any trouble. The point is that Hawk wasn’t worried of Solas reporting to the advisors, not after he had that talk with Malcolm. There’s a chance that Solas hadn’t talk yet, so it’s best to visit him while he could.

Besides, what was bothering Hawk the most was how much Solas know from that dream incident.

Taking a deep breath, he took the courage to knock three times on the wooden door.

It took several seconds before the door knob twisted and the door swung open with Solas on the other side. The elf seemed a bit surprise, but he also relaxed.

“Hawk.”

“Solas!” Hawk forced a smile, greeting in false cheer. “Can we talk? Please?”

The apostate elf wore a calculative look before he stepped aside, gesturing for Hawk to enter. The recruit slipped right in as the door shut behind them. Hawk glanced around and noticed that the room didn’t have a lot of belongings, but he did notice a couple of paints.

“Would you like some tea, Hawk?” Solas asked as he moved toward the kettle on his bedside table.

Hawk made a face. “But you hate tea.”

Solas paused before turning around to face Hawk with an incredulous look.

Hawk resisted to sigh at his dumbness. Seriously? What was wrong with him?

“Look, Solas… I don’t really know why you were in my dream—and I know you told me that you were forced into it—but nothing was forcing you to stay, right?” Hawk asked, pointing that out. “So, could you just…leave?”

Solas crossed his arms and for a long time, they stared at each other in this stalemate. Hawk suspected that the apostate elf had questions, but he was sure most of those questions, he’ll be leaving unanswered. Time passed around them as the noise of Haven outside of the cabin sounded off: soldiers heading to the tavern, or people starting to eat their suppers, and workers running to quickly finish their jobs of the day.

Finally, Solas sighed. “Alright… I’ll let it go for now, but I do have some questions.”

“I may or may not answer them, but go ahead,” Hawk quickly replied and consented to a few inquiries.

“What was that _phantom_ in your dream?”

“Pass,” Hawk answered, but then Solas threw a sharp gaze that caused him to flinch, and so he quickly retracted his words and gave a different response. “Okay, look…ummm…I can’t really say, but she’s not a demon. I’m not possessed or anything. She’s just… She’s just always there. That’s all I’m going to say.”

The elf frowned deeply. “Hawk, I am quite concerned over this---especially of that _thing_. I’ve never seen or felt anything like it before, and it’s worrying to hear that you’re not at all bothered by her presence.”

“Because she’s always there, and she hasn’t done anything to hurt me before,” Hawk said. “If anything, she shows up when the demons in my dreams get a bit too hostile---anyway, she’s safe.”

“Hawk! The very aura of her makes me want to _puke_ ,” Solas said, gritting his teeth.

Hawk shuddered at his words. His eyes widened in surprise.

Solas calmed down a bit as he explained, “Whatever that phantom is, she harbors so much hate and despair that it even deterred any demon from approaching you. It carries a vengeful, suffocating grudge that can put revenants to shame. It is a _demon_ unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

The recruit remained quiet, not saying anything to that. Most of it was probably true.

“…You say that it is safe, but for how long, Hawk?” Solas asked.

Hawk pursed his lips at that. “…I… I don’t know… but I’ll be careful. I’ll be fine. If you don’t trust her, then trust me. She’s been with me for nearly ten years, Solas, and she had all the chance to kill me and overtake me, but she didn’t. _Trust me._ ”

Solas stared at him, and after a moment, he let out a quiet sigh. He looked like he gave up the phantom for now, but then his eyes glanced over at the red bandana wrapped around Hawk’s head. His earlobes were visible but not the tips. Anyone could assume he was human, but he wasn’t.

“…Another if you don’t mind,” Solas began.

Hawk winced, but then he nodded, letting Solas have it.

Then his question came in a tone of controlled anger. “…Who _docked_ your ears?”

The recruit paled at that question.

Solas stared hard as he asked another, “Is the culprit dead?”

Hawk began to sweat a bit and the heart in his chest started to race rapidly. It felt like the walls of his lungs were closing all the airways as it was getting harder to breathe.

He gasped. “H-He’s--”

Then two rapid knocks on the door interrupted them, and a messenger forced himself in.

“ _Recruit Hawk without the ‘e’!_ ” The scout called out, along with the Hawk’s famous motto in Haven. “Your presence is requested in the Chantry! At once, they say!”

“Oh…OHH! Oh my god, look at the time!” Hawk shouted, going back to his quirky self as Solas threw an incredulous look. “Yeah, sorry, you heard the scout. I gots to go now, okay! But you take care, egghead! _Buh-bye!_ ”

He reused his ‘goodbye getaway’ line back from the Solas’ first visit in his dream before he ran away from the cabin, heading to the Chantry.

Little did he know, it would have been better for him to stay with Solas.

Ω

This pandemic has been a bitch.

Btw, COVID-19 is the worst flu ever.

Stay safe everyone.


End file.
